When I’d showed a small flicker of interest in the training event I was now standing in the registration queue for, I didn’t know that Jamie was one of the seminar leaders. Elle and Kate had let me in on this information the night before. After one bottle of wine and initially refusing to attend, I finally agreed to pack my overnight bag.

‘Remind me why I signed up to this again?’ I asked as I dropped my bag on the floor.

‘You didn’t know it wasn't mandatory,’ Elle replied as she hooked her arm in mine.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I wanted us all to go away. Good food, good wine. It’s a spa, for God’s sake. How much more persuading do you need?’

‘I’m too close to him. I can see myself sitting outside his room just to hear him shower,’ I said as I thought about how I could get out of this.

‘We won’t let that happen,’ Kate smiled.

‘You let me come! Temptation is everywhere and you still let me come. Fucking hells bells, this is a disaster.’

Jamie and I had spent the last couple of weeks ignoring the pull to each other. I knew he felt it too. He had led a review where a foster carer had accused me of being unprofessional by allowing the birth parents to change their daughter’s clothes during contact. I felt they had every right to change their child into clothes they had brought from home. Jamie had agreed, and when I was questioning my decision, he knelt down in front of me and praised me for giving the parents a voice. He’d whispered close into my ear, and I could hear his steady breaths as I took in his voice. His hand kept flicking forward, stopping suddenly when he remembered he couldn’t touch me or stroke my face as an additional comfort.

I cried that night; mainly because of the confusion as to why we were in this situation. I had left him climbing onto the train as the love of my life and welcomed him back into my life as my manager. They were such polar extremes it made my head spin.

I had been looking forward to a night away from it all with the girls, completely unaware that Jamie would be staying in the next room. The hotel sounded amazing. It had its own spa and swimming pool and I’d already booked a treatment with the aim of slipping into pamper heaven to avoid all thoughts of Jamie. No chance of that now.

‘Can I take your booking confirmation?’ A woman wearing too much make up took the sheet of paper out of my hand. ‘Oh, I see you’re with Jamie Dawson. He arrived about half an hour ago. Isn’t he lovely?’ I suddenly had an urge to lick my finger and sweep it across her forehead to get the foundation out of her eyebrows.

‘I’m not with Jamie Dawson. He’s my manager,’ I said with just a tad too much bitch.

She looked at me with a strange mix of frustration and jealously. When I looked over at the bar, I understood why. Three-piece-suit Jamie was talking to a group of people who had obviously just checked in. He must have sucked them towards him like a hoover with his good looks, navy suit and tan brogues. If I weren’t still in love with him, I would have vomited on my Converse.

Oh shit, he’s calling us over with his beautiful hand and particularly marvellous example of watch porn.

‘Hey, you OK?’ he asked as he stepped forward and took my bag out of my hands.

‘Yeah, got here in one piece.’

‘This is Abi, Elle and Kate’ he said, introducing us as colleagues.

Cue awkward silence.

‘Nice to meet you.’ I held my hand up in a static wave. ‘I’m going to head to my room, drop off my bags and have a look around. To make it even more of a solid plan, there may also be alcohol involved at some point.’ I was clutching my room key like my life depended on it just to stop myself from rubbing my hand along his well-defined shoulders.

‘See you later then?’ he asked with a curious yet wishful look across his face. I just nodded. As I picked up my bag, I heard a mobile phone ring. Jamie reached into his inside pocket lined in silk and all amazing and paisley and, fuck, now I was lusting after the lining of his suit…

‘Excuse me,’ he said, holding up his finger and stepping aside.

I heard the whole muffled conversation.

‘You know I’m not coming home tonight…I’m at a conference…You did know…Calm down…Take a deep breath…Have you taken your medication today?…I will ring you later, I promise.’

I couldn’t help but watch.

He hung up and pushed the phone back into his pocket. He rolled his shoulders back and straightened the sleeves of his jacket. I knew under the model looks and styled hair that he really wanted to change into his Star Wars t-shirt. He had one hand on his hip while the other stroked the stubble on his chin in thought. He turned and caught me watching him. He didn’t change his stance, make any tiny movement or attempt to shrug off what I’d just heard. He just watched me.

I walked to my room without a second glance.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Elle and Kate had booked facials, and I was glad to break away late afternoon to head back to my room to collect my kit for a much-needed swim. Mum had always said I was born with swimmers shoulders. I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but halter-neck tops looked the fucking bomb on me, so I couldn’t complain.

I pulled the strap up on my black one-piece, leaning forward and jiggling my boobs into it to ensure they were safely contained. They sometimes had a mind of their own. I needed practical today. A suit that would get the job done in super speedy response time.

This pool was totally different to my local swimming baths where you were lucky if the hairdryers worked or the lockers didn’t swallow your twenty pence piece without delivering on its role to safely lock away your belongings. This pool had an inflated ego. It was all glossy tiles, clean floors and wave machines. I felt slightly intimidated by its greatness as I dipped my toe in the water, but I quickly got over my concerns when the warmth took me away. The water was a place for me to think, a place for me to get lost in my thoughts or let my body take over, gliding and working its stretch through the wave. I preferred backstroke; it was smooth and effortless, allowing me to keep surveillance—ever watchful, always on high alert.

I let myself get lost in the stroke and tried not to let my mind wander to Jamie. It was hard. I wondered if he was in the gym working on those delicious arms of his, or maybe he was taking a nap, resting those amazing blue eyes; or perhaps he was getting a bite to eat, gathering his energy for a night of debauchery with the other speakers and staff. Fuck, now I was thinking about him. What a bloody piss take.

I pushed my feet off the side of the pool and let out a long breath as I enjoyed the push of the water against my shoulders—until my eardrum was pierced with a loud, shrill noise.

‘Excuse me, miss. Miss!’ I heard a muffled voice and immediately lifted my ears out of the water and glided back to the side of the pool.

‘What is that?’ I asked, lifting my hands to my ears in a feeble attempt to drown out the shriek.

‘It’s the fire alarm. I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

‘Well, I’m in the pool, so I’m pretty safe from fire,’ I laughed, but the steward failed to take in the joke. On a full frown, he reiterated firmly that I needed to leave. ‘Where do you want me to go?’ I asked, lifting my body out of the water and grabbing the towel I had left on a sun lounger.

‘Fire procedures state you need to move out to the front of the hotel. There is a large lawn area. You’ll find everyone there, miss.’

‘I’m not being funny or difficult or anything, but I’m in a swim costume and I really don’t fancy the idea of standing outside showcasing my thighs.’

I’m sure I raised a small smirk on his lips.

‘I can get you a towelling robe,’ he said, ushering me out urgently when he remembered the hotel might well be burning to the ground as we chatted casually about dressing gowns. He passed a locker on the way through the changing rooms and handed me a robe. I snuggled into it as I walked through reception and out into the last of the early evening light alongside every hotel guest, all fully clothed including male perfection in a denim shirt rolled up to elbows.

Jamie had changed out of his suit and was chatting to Greg, one of the senior social workers. He glanced round and took in my state of undress. My wet hair was slopped into a lopsided bun and the remnants of my mascara ran down my cheek. I only knew this thanks to a stunning blonde dressed in a figure-hugging dress who took great pleasure in telling me this as she fucked Jamie with her eyes.

Jamie dipped into his pocket and pulled out a pack of tissues, offering one to me and pointing to the side of his face with his finger in direction.

‘Thanks. Aren’t you just too perfect with your clothes and handy tissues?’

He laughed and dipped his head. Greg carried on talking like it was completely normal for me to be standing outside a hotel in my borrowed robe.

‘I like the shirt.’

‘Thanks. Had to get the suit off,’ he smiled.

‘You never did like them. You’d have your trousers off as soon as you got home,’ I said, not missing his smirk.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting with a smiling Elle and Kate on the wet grass with my legs crossed, desperate for a margarita and a warm shower.

‘Only you,’ Elle laughed as she looked down at my bare legs.

‘What makes you think this wasn’t planned? This could all be part of a master plan to seduce the ex.’

‘If it was a master plan, you’d be wearing a bikini,’ Elle replied.

‘True.’

‘I wish they’d hurry up. I said I’d call Steve but I left my phone in all the panic,’ Kate said as she huffed out her cheeks in frustration.

‘Are you two on a schedule or something?’ Elle laughed as Kate looked down at the grass.

‘Maybe his potatoes will miss him because your lack of contact is holding him up,’ I replied.

‘His potatoes will be fine,’ Kate said, trying to hide a smile.

‘He’d make me die of boredom. Honestly, I started to switch off at your birthday party when he started to talk about cabbages. No offense.’

‘Plenty taken. He doesn’t always talk about vegetables.’ Kate started to get defensive and I started to stir.

‘He’s a bore,’ I said, nudging my shoulder into her.

‘He’s nice,’ Kate replied with her usual way of describing him.

‘Do you feel fireworks when you’re with him? Is there hope of a spark?’ I goaded. She sighed heavily as she rested her head in her hands.

‘Fireworks is going a bit far. Maybe a sparkler could describe us better. Or a flame—but a flame from a birthday candle.’

‘Fucking hell,’ I replied as our sorry love lives started to sink in.

Jamie didn’t join us on the grass, but he didn’t leave my side either. Once I’d had enough of him looming over me in all his denim shirted hotness, I pulled on his leg and patted the space beside me.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked as he sat down on the wet grass beside me.

‘I can’t feel my nips if that’s any indication for you?’

‘That’s a problem. How awful,’ he deadpanned.

Our gazes finally met and, somehow, we made our way to easy again.

‘Cut and glass spring to mind,’ I replied, not giving a fuck that the nips comment was totally inappropriate.

‘Do you still have…’ He pointed to my chest.

‘My piercing? Yes.’

‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘It’s fine. I raised the subject of nips. My fault.’

‘I should have joined you for a swim,’ he said.

‘I don't think so, boss man. I can’t be seen to be fraternising with the team manager now, can I?’

‘I'm not that bad.’

‘No, you’ve got them eating out of the palm of your hand. Nothing I say makes them hate you. My next plan is to tell them how bad you are in bed and what a small dick you’ve got.’

‘Well, Abi, that would be lying, and you, my friend, are anything but a liar.’

My friend. I hated that he could refer to me so casually. I never thought that we would ever be tiptoeing around the friend zone. And don’t even get me started on the liar comment. Telling him I’d met someone else when I hadn’t made me a liar. Letting my friends believe he’d left me for a fantastic job opportunity he just couldn’t miss certainly made me a liar. I watched as his hands played with the grass, letting the small green tips slip through his fingers. I decided to ignore his comment.

‘You did really well today. I enjoyed your presentation,’ I said, changing the subject as subtly as a weightlifter picking up the heaviest barbell in the gym.

‘Thanks. I could see you. You helped me keep calm.’

He had worn another three-piece suit during his seminar and they were fast becoming my kryptonite. I needed a coffee just to make notes without feeling like I was going to keel over. It also hadn’t escaped my attention that it had been the most over subscribed lecture of the day.

‘So, is it round two tomorrow?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, apparently there were a lot of requests from people who couldn’t get in, so they want me to repeat it in the morning. Who knew a lecture on gathering stats to shape best practice would be so interesting?’

‘Yeah, who knew?’ I replied, sarcastically rolling my head to emphasise the number of women who had descended around our grassy spot. He looked at me like I had just given him a mathematical equation to solve, puzzled and genuinely immune to the huge pull he had.

Then the thunder broke the connection.

‘Unbelievable,’ I said, shaking my head as the downpour started. It didn’t take long for it to soak us all through. People were shouting and complaints were being thrown around at the poor staff who were now handing around large golf umbrellas. I put the hood of my robe over my head and Jamie laughed at the wet slap it made on my forehead. His hand sat at my waist, but I soon felt it drop lower, sitting just above the curve of my arse. His chest pushed out and his breathing slowed. He watched me with his hooded eyes—a look of love so intense it made my shoulders shake harshly with a shiver.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we apologise for the delay but the fire service have now confirmed it is safe to return to the hotel. Free drinks will be available between eight and ten tonight as a gesture of our apologies.’ The crowd on the lawn roared, but for me, there was only one person there. Jamie Dawson. Still my love, my soul, my heart.

Fuckbags of shit…

He walked me back to my room, which I tried to remember was no big deal considering it was next to mine.

‘Are you taking advantage of the free drinks tonight? You never know, they may crack open the Pimm’s,’ he said with a smile.

‘Yeah, you know me. Why settle on a glass when you can have a jug?’ I laughed stupidly, because I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted to say that didn’t involve the status of us.

‘See you later then.’ He backed a few feet down to his room and we both laughed quietly. He put his forehead against the door, shook his head and gave me a lazy wave before he disappeared inside.

I made my way inside my room and immediately heard my mobile ring.

‘Be careful,’ Elle said.

‘Why don’t you just come up to my room?’

‘Can’t be bothered. I’m cold and need a bath to warm me up. Plus I was worried I might interrupt something.’

‘Like what?’ I asked.

‘I’ve just observed epic flirty banter between the two of you.’

‘Not flirty; just friendly. Manager and colleague.’

‘Nips and cut glass? Would you have made that comment to Colin?’ she chastised.

‘Probably.’

‘I’m just calling to remind you that he’s a married man. Be careful. If you need me, come on up.’

‘I’ll be careful. Promise.’

I threw the phone down on the bed and lay there thinking about what Elle had said until the shivers became too much. I went to run a bath, and as I did, I could hear faint sounds and water running from Jamie’s room. I found myself putting my hand to the wall and imagined he was doing the same. The only barrier between us was a thin layer of plasterboard and a veil of wallpaper.

And then I knew.

I couldn’t stay in that room knowing he was so close. I turned off the taps in a rush, grabbed the key from the dressing table, and before I knew it, I was banging on his door— which he opened on the second knock.

‘I started running a bath to warm myself up, but then my thoughts were so heavy I couldn’t shift them. I knew I had to come and talk to you. I tried to ignore it, I really did.’

He held his hand on the door like it was there to steady him. I watched his chest rise and fall and I saw the look behind his sad eyes. Desire. Need. Want.

‘I had to say it. I don’t expect you to say anything back.’

The water dripped down off a curl that had escaped my lopsided bun and a shiver ran through me. I noticed my robe had come undone, so I dragged the edges together to form a barrier. A barrier from him. Stupid, but at the time, it made so much sense.

‘You’re freezing.’

‘Don’t say anything. I need to get this out.’ I was breathless. Suddenly, the moment I’d rehearsed was finally here. ‘You were the one person who knew me. I threw everything at you and you caught it all and claimed it as yours.’ He took in a hard breath and lifted his head. ‘I’d never felt so possessed, adored or wanted, and I fucking craved it!’ I said, deliberately shouting and purposely drawing attention to the word craved because that’s what I’d been doing from the moment he left.

‘Abi,’ he warned, taking a step closer.

‘You don’t wear a wedding ring,’ I said.

He hid his left hand behind his back. ‘No, never have.’

‘Why?’

‘Many reasons.’ His voice got louder. The ease we had formed earlier under the blare of the fire alarm had shrivelled up into nothing.

‘What reasons? You don’t have pudgy fingers and you certainly don’t want to cheat because I’m basically throwing myself at you and you’re not taking the bait.’

He shook his head and drew his lips together in a hard, bleak line. ‘Because it’s a sham, that’s why. Because wearing a ring would make it real; it would be too intimate.’

‘I don’t understand. What do you mean?’

‘Come in, Abi, please.’

I parked myself on the sofa by the window as he sat on the stool by the dressing table. I nervously sat on my hands and tapped my feet on the carpet. They were covered in mud, grass and weird bits of stick that I didn’t even feel.

‘Are you going to explain?’ I asked. He was sitting forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands wringing in front of him. He nodded his head a few times as if trying to get his words in order before letting them escape his mouth.

‘Let’s talk about the letter you sent just before my birthday.’

Fuck. I could still see my handwriting when I closed my eyes.

‘I wanted to hurt you,’ I said softly, terrified of where this was going.

‘You did.’

‘We hurt each other.’

‘I didn’t feel that way at the time, but I see it now.’ He stood and walked into the bathroom. I could hear the groan of taps and the splashes of running water. When he walked back into the room, he sat back down on the stool quietly. ‘You told me you were seeing someone else, and that fucking stung, Abi.’

‘I was in love with you. I didn’t know what else to do to get you to take notice of me. I accepted the meant to be bullshit just because it kept some kind of connection to you.’

‘I regret that more than anything. It was pretty shitty to ask you put your life on hold. I wanted to keep you but knew I couldn’t do anything long distance. There was Mum and I still needed to work. But can I also point out that you said you wouldn’t come with me?’

‘I couldn’t just leave. I had responsibilities too. My mum needed me. She might not have been ill, but looking out for her was—is—a full time job. I couldn’t just leave her,’ I said, desperately trying to justify why I hadn’t just packed up my life and agreed to move to London with him. I didn’t have the right to call him out when I hadn’t done anything to make our relationship work either. I took a deep breath. ‘We didn’t fight hard enough. I’d just got into the team I wanted and my friends were all there. Seems like crap excuses now.’

‘There was a difference. I had to leave, but you had a choice. You knew my mum was ill. I was all she had. The job came along with that. I had no option.’

‘Why are you blaming me?’ I shouted in exasperation.

‘I’m not blaming.’

‘I thought we were discussing why your marriage is such a sham.’ I crossed my arms, trying not to cringe at the bitch in my tone.

He stood up and strode into the bathroom to turn off the taps, returning with a towel wrapped around his hands. He dried them quickly and threw the towel on the bed. ‘My wife’s name is Clara.’

‘How nice. Thanks for sharing,’ I spat, hurt that he would even mention her name in front of me.

‘Abi—’

I looped my arms through each other, wrapping them around myself in comfort and feeling prickled at his reprimand.

‘I’ve known Clara for years. We went to uni together. We were good mates. Nothing had ever happened between us, but I knew she liked me. We’d always flirted but I never wanted to ruin our friendship.’

‘I’m going to be sick,’ I whispered to no one but myself.

‘When I got your letter, I spiralled into a mess. I was going out with some mates the night of my birthday and she was there. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to say fuck you—’

‘So you fucked her?’ I interrupted. His head fell.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry too,’ I said with everything genuine and real fighting inside of me.

He stood, scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck and crouched down in front of me. ‘Everything I’ve done, everything I still do, is all for you. I wonder all the time if Abi would like this, if she’d approve of that, what she would tell me to do.’

‘Did you think that when you made the decision to get married?’ I asked angrily.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Bullshit!’ I stood up and pushed his hand away as he went to hold me. ‘Do you really think I would have given you my blessing?’

‘Not your blessing maybe, but you would have said it was the right thing to do.’

‘What are you talking about?’

He dropped his head. ‘Let’s just stop,’ he whispered. ‘Can’t we just remember tonight?’

‘Remember what?’ I asked.

‘Us.’

I broke out a single sob pressing my hand to my chest to steady myself. I suddenly remembered how his hair felt between my fingers, how his body felt between my legs, and how his heart felt somewhere deep inside of me.

I gasped when he stepped forward and folded me into him, lightly brushing the side of my breast. I pushed his hand away and caught the hurt on his face.

‘I'm not asking you to be the other woman. I wouldn’t do that to you,’ he said solemnly.

‘I was the woman once.’

‘You always have been,’ he sighed.

‘You’re talking in riddles. I’m so confused.’

‘Come with me.’ He held out his hand and I took it on instinct. He led me into the bathroom where I found the bath ready, warm, full of bubbles and the smell of vanilla surrounding me. My favourite. He kissed the top of my head and stayed with his lips on my skin. I could feel his breath on my forehead, heightening everything I’d been holding in. He was real. He was here. But he was still not mine to keep.

I had spent far too long trying to explain it all away, imagining different scenarios and making up stories. I didn’t know which was worse—spending almost two years wondering if he was still alive with feelings of intense loss, or believing that he’d left me because he just didn’t want to be a part of my life anymore.

I had mourned. I had grieved. But I still loved.

As all of those thoughts stirred, I felt the need to repeatedly hit the heel of my hand into his chest, but at the same time, I wanted him to grab onto my wrists and kiss me with the same passion and desire that had burned in us throughout our entire relationship.

He stood behind me, reaching his arms around my waist to undo the belt of my borrowed robe, still wet and heavy from the rain. I felt prickles across my skin as he slipped it off my shoulders and pooled around my legs onto the tiled floor.

‘I’m not going to undress you. If you want to stay, you need to make the move so I know you’re happy with this,’ he whispered into my ear before moving away. A breath after he did, I pulled down the straps of my swim costume, pushed it down my hips and stepped out of it. I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. He didn’t say anything. I couldn’t feel his eyes on me like I used to. He just took my hand as I stepped into the bath and lowered myself into the warm water.

He walked out of the bathroom, and for a second, I wondered if he would return, but then I heard his steps. He appeared carrying the stool from the dressing table. He put it down at the side of the bath and picked up a bottle of body wash. He still didn’t look at my body; his eyes were fixed firmly on my face. The bubbles covered me, so he didn’t need to worry about restraining himself in any way. I was covered in a suit of bubbly white foam.

He picked up the sponge that was floating in the water, his fingertips brushing my legs, causing a burn across my skin. I lowered my eyes to his hands and watched as he poured body wash onto the sponge and started working it in with both hands.

He felt for my hand in the water and lifted my arm, moving the sponge around in slow circles before dipping it back in and lifting it over me, squeezing it so the trickle of water washed off the suds. His movements were careful and meticulous. I hadn’t been looked after or adored like this since him. I missed it. I missed this. I missed us.

‘Lean your head back,’ he said, removing the band from the messy knot of my bun. My hair fell down my back with a wet slap. I opened my eyes briefly and caught his smile.

He used the cup that had been holding his toothbrush to pour water over my head, wetting the long strands of hair, pulling his big hands back from my forehead to my crown. So softly, so full of love and renewed appreciation.

‘You’re so fucking beautiful,’ he said, still concentrating on working his fingers through my hair before dropping the cup into the water. ‘I miss you so much,’ he whispered into my earlobe, which tingled with its own blissful vibration, the same vibration when an orgasm starts gathering its strength. ‘The ache never stopped. It’s still here. Sometimes it’s so strong I don’t know what to do with myself, but then I accept it’s my punishment for what I did. The pain I caused. The mess I made.’

He continued washing me with the soft sponge, confirming that all of my sexual experiences since he left had meant nothing. This was the most intimate I’d ever been. No sex, no expectations, and with a man who meant absolutely everything to me.

We fell into our natural rhythm. It didn't feel forced. It was just us. This time, I didn’t have to feel my way around. There were no false pretences or hopes that the man in front of me was going to be mine until I took my last breath. This time, I knew utterly and completely that he wasn’t mine to keep.

His blue eyes had changed over the last two years. They now appeared grey. They briefly took in my body, glancing quickly down the bathtub. His eyes skimmed the tops of my shoulders and then moved down to my hands resting on either side of the bath before he stood and physically took a step back, creating more distance between us. He pulled the stool back and perched right on the edge, his legs outstretched before him.

‘How did you cope? Tell me how you got through it?’ he asked.

I put both of my hands into the water and immediately embraced the warmth I felt across my body. I sighed deeply and caught my determination, which had been lying sluggishly at the bottom of my spine.

‘I believe that no matter how hard a situation is, we all have the ability to ride through the rough. It’s a human condition. A hope function. Like setting an alarm to wake you up in the morning. My alarm is on the dressing table at the other side of my room. It makes me get up to turn it off. I choose to turn on my hope function as I turn off the morning alarm.’

‘The hope function?’ he asked thoughtfully, holding his chin in his hands.

‘We all have it. We all have a choice about turning it on. Some days are harder than others, but you must have turned it on, Jamie, because you’re here, still standing.’

‘What about you?’

‘I wasn’t enough for you. You left. I was obviously never part of you’re hope function.’

‘You were everything,’ he said, crouching as he stood to move the stool back to the side of the bath.

‘What changed?’

‘You know I can’t…’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t go there. My hope function was off. Shut down to the point where I never thought I could turn it back on again.’ He dropped his head and shook it slightly.

‘I’m the complete opposite to you. I always have my hope function switched on. I’ve had to. It was too difficult to think deeply about why you left and why you didn’t want to keep close contact; just letters.’

‘You deserved more,’ he said, finally meeting my eyes.

‘You’re right, I did.’

‘No, I meant you deserved more than me, more than I could give you.’

I didn’t reply but we kept our gaze until he dropped his hand in the water to search for the sponge. He squeezed it and returned to circling it down my arms.

‘I always loved your notches and grooves. Your bones fascinated me,’ he said, lost in thought. ‘I told my mum about your collarbone and how I used to trace my finger across the hard line. She called them saltcellars. I have no idea why,’ he said softly, not taking his eyes off me. ‘I always wondered. Probably always will.’ I took hold of his hand, the pull forcing him down to his knees beside me. He pressed his forehead to mine and I pressed my hand to his cheek. I hoped that if we stayed there long enough, I would start to read his thoughts, that the jumble of what had happened during the last two years would transfer to me. This made me press my head harder against him until he pulled away.

‘I hoped you’d change your mind,’ I said urgently, ‘and tell me it was all a mistake, that you missed me with everything you had.’ He nodded his head and closed his eyes. ‘I hoped you’d pick up the phone and call,’ I said on a broken voice and deep breath. ‘I hoped you would find it too hard, too fucking hard, without me in your life that you couldn’t breathe, that wherever you were, every ceiling felt like it was pushing down on top of you and every wall was closing in.’ His eyes were still closed and his head was shaking. ‘I hoped you would write lost words, words you couldn’t say out loud but could say through holding a pen and scribbling roughly. I hoped to see the indents of pain where you’d pressed too hard across the paper because the feelings were too much. I hoped every night I would come home to a letter.’ I shook out the shake in my voice and sucked in air on a deep gasp. ‘That describes my hope function, Jamie. That hope function is why I’m still standing.’

He was crying softly, his body shaking, his eyes still closed and his fingers laced through mine. I looked down the length of the water and realised the bubbles were now a thin layer of white and my body would be available for him to see. I suddenly felt vulnerable, so I raised my legs up to my chest, slugging the water over the rim of the bath as I did. We stayed silent for minutes, him still on the floor and me still shielding my body protectively. But our hands didn’t leave each other’s once.

‘Stand up. I want to dry you,’ he said as he took a single finger, helping me to stand. I let the thin foam drop lazily from me knowing that he was still staring at the floor.

‘Thanks for taking care of me,’ I said as he leant down to dry my feet, moving the towel up to my knees, avoiding places he used to seek with passion, stroking my sides with the towel until he stopped at my collarbone. His face was pained and he stepped back quickly, bumping into the sink with a thud. The towel dropped to the floor and he bent slightly, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief.

‘Abi,’ he said softly. He started to trace his rib with his thumb over his t-shirt and took in a small gasp of a breath. ‘I can’t believe it. This. I…’ His voice was choppy and he struggled to stand still.

‘I shouldn’t have done this. I can go,’ I said, picking up the towel off the floor and covering myself, unsure of what had caused the sudden change.

‘No, stay,’ he said firmly, moving closer to me, pushing my hair back so that it fell down my spine. He lifted his fingers and traced my tattoo. It was white, delicate, and placed with certainty on my shoulder just at the end of my collarbone.

Infinity.

The symbol I joined with our initials at each corner loop and used to end my letters.

‘My space. Our symbol,’ he whispered under the breath that was shaky and unsettled.

‘I needed something to remind me we were real,’ I replied, catching my hands with his, tracing the circles with our fingertips. ‘This was part of my hope function, a physical hope function. A reminder, I guess. And a hope that I would be able to show it to you one day.’ I looked down at his fingers still lingering on my skin. ‘There was no question where I would put it. I wanted it to look like a scar because scars tell a story, almost like a timeline on your skin, and you’re the biggest event in mine.’

He shook his head again and stood back, his fingers leaving my collarbone. I wanted to cry as he appeared to withdraw himself from all of me. He looked up, tugging at his ear lobe nervously as if he was considering his next move before he lifted up his t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

I saw it immediately. A matching tattoo. Not white like mine, but black, delicate, exactly the same swirl as the one on my collarbone but his was etched under his ribs.

‘I needed something to remind me we were real.’ He repeated my words shakily. ‘It was going to go across my heart but I thought that was too predictable for us. We’re so far from predictable,’ he smiled. ‘Under the ribs was the closest spot.’

I brought my hand up to my lips and laughed through a sob, not caring about the ugly noise that felt like it was coming from someone else. I knew that our connection was still there, bright and sparkling around us, but that ugly sob represented the knowledge we both felt like a burn. We knew that the sparkling attachment would never die.

We also knew there was nothing that either one of us could do about it.