I step into the hallway and stare around at the familiar space, at the mirror on the wall, the ceiling pendant. It seems like weeks since I was last here.

‘Lizzy! That you?’ The lounge door flies open and Joe comes out, his hair messy, T-shirt creased. ‘How’d it go? What did she say?’ He stares at me for a long moment. ‘Are you okay? You look a bit… odd.’

I walk past him into the lounge. Frank is asleep on the armchair. He opens one eye and then closes it again. The TV is paused – a freeze-frame of some cop drama where a guy is yelling at a police officer, his mouth twisted in anger.

‘Do you want a cuppa?’ Joe asks.

‘No.’ My stomach feels empty and my throat is dry. I feel as though I’m on the precipice of the rest of my life and it’s about to go into free fall.

‘Are you going to sit down, or are you just going to stand there in the middle of the room?’ Joe gives a short laugh, but it dies in his throat when I don’t respond. ‘Are you still annoyed because I wanted to come with you? Because I was only trying to be—’

‘I don’t care about that,’ I say, scratching at the back of my neck.

‘Good, okay. But I was thinking about it, and you’re right, Lizzy. I do get overprotective sometimes, and maybe it’s a bit much. But it’s only because I love you. And I’m worried about you, what with all this stuff that’s been going on.’

‘Yes.’ I nod slowly. ‘You say that a lot. You’re always telling me that you love me and you’re worried about me.’

‘That’s because it’s true.’

‘Is it?’

‘What do you mean, is it? Of course it is.’ Joe’s cheeks flush. He takes a step closer. ‘Lizzy…’

‘I had an interesting chat with Emma this evening.’ I tilt my head and stare at my boyfriend, studying his face for clues to the truth.

‘About the letters?’ he asks. ‘What did she say?’

‘About the letters, and about… other things.’

Joe licks his lips. ‘Let’s sit down.’ He tries to herd me over to the sofa, but I stay where I am.

‘I’d rather stand.’

‘Okay.’ He raises his hands in surrender. ‘Just feels a bit weird, standing in the middle of the room like this.’ He gives another nervous laugh.

My face remains stony, the muscles in my jaw tense and stiff. ‘Did it feel weird when you were propositioning my sister?’

Joe’s face drains of colour. He splutters. ‘What! What the hell are you talking about? I never propositioned Emma. Is this why you’re acting so weird? Has she been spouting off more lies about me? What’s she said this time?’

‘She said she never tried to kiss you. She said it was you who came on to her.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Lizzy. Not this again. We’ve been over it all before, years ago. I thought we’d put all this crap behind us. What? You’re telling me you believe her lies now, that it, hm?’

‘Save it, Joe. I know the truth. Emma has no reason to lie to me. We don’t even have a relationship any more, thanks to you.’

‘This is bollocks. I’m going out.’

‘Yeah, well if you leave now, don’t bother coming back.’

He strides over to the lounge door and then stops. His body sags. He turns. ‘I can’t go over it all again, Lizzy. Your sister, she’s a liar. She’s a flirt.’

‘What, a flirt like me, you mean?’

He tuts. ‘Don’t be daft.’

‘You called me a flirt the other day.’

‘Yeah, but I was wrong. I was angry.’

‘Joe,’ I say, my voice calmer. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘Anything.’ His eyes widen. He’s the picture of blue-eyed innocence.

I fix him with a stare. ‘Can you please just tell me the truth about what happened that night? Did you try it on with Emma? Just a simple yes or no. Tell me the truth and I promise I won’t get mad.’ That last part is a promise I may not be able to keep.

Joe takes a breath and chews his lip. I see his brain working behind his eyes. Weighing it up. His hesitation is enough to tell me that Emma’s version of events is the real one.

I shake my head. ‘Fuck, Joe. Why?’

He freezes, and then: ‘Look, Lizzy, it’s the only time I’ve ever done anything like that. I was drunk. I’m an idiot. I… I don’t know what I was thinking. But I love you, Lizzy. I can’t lose you over something that happened years ago. Over something that meant nothing.’

The thing that keeps playing over and over in my mind is when Emma told me that Joe thought she was prettier than me. That Joe would drop me for her if she gave him the word. Was that true? Would he have let me go if she had crooked her finger? I can’t bring myself to ask him. It’s too demeaning, too humiliating. But it makes no difference anyway, because after his betrayal and his lies, this is the end of our relationship. How could I ever trust Joe again? Nausea rises from my gut, the acrid, taste of betrayal in my throat. I can hardly bear to look at my so-called boyfriend.

‘Why don’t you ask Brycie if he has room on his couch,’ I say. ‘Because you’re not staying here.’

‘Lizzy, please.’ His eyes are bright with tears. ‘I get that you’re angry, but we need to talk about this properly.’

All this time I was worrying about Joe’s jealousy. About the fact that he didn’t trust me. But it should have been me worrying about him. ‘How many other women have you chatted up while we’ve been together?’ I ask. ‘How many times have you LIED TO ME?’

‘None! Nobody! I swear, Lizzy. I love you, I love you.’

‘She’s my sister! All those years… you let me believe that she’d betrayed me, when it was YOU!’ I pick up a cushion and throw it at his head. Good job there aren’t any rocks lying around, or I’d smash his cheating head in. ‘Would you ever have told me the truth?’ I pant. ‘You’re a total and utter bastard for lying to me. For putting me and Emma through all that crap!’ I collapse onto the sofa. Joe takes a tentative step towards me. But I glare at him, daring him to come any closer. He stays where he is, by the window. The TV is still frozen on the yelling man. He looks like I feel.

‘Lizzy, I’m so, so sorry. I made a terrible mistake. Please don’t punish me for one mistake.’

‘One mistake?’ I snarl. ‘One mistake!’

‘It’s because I love you. I didn’t want to lose you. I’d do anything to keep you, you must know that.’

Now that Joe has confessed to trying it on with Emma, now I know for certain that my sister is innocent, I realise it can’t be her who sent the letters. She doesn’t want to split Joe and I up. She never did. Was Joe the one behind it all along? What if he was trying to set me up somehow? Or to make me believe it was her? My brain is spinning. All I know is that I can’t trust him. I need him gone.

‘You need to leave,’ I say, my anger mixing with a swirl of darker thoughts.

‘Please, Lizzy.’

‘Now. Just get your things and get out.’ I pick up the remote and switch off the TV. But the actor’s glaring face is tangled up with my own fury. My own hurt. My own devastation. And it’s not only Joe I’m angry with. I’m angry at myself. At my stubbornness. I should have spoken to my sister years ago, but I was too scared of the truth. I was too scared that believing her would mean breaking up with Joe. But the truth has a way of worming its way out. Of wriggling free. And what should have come to light back then is coming to light now instead. Only this time the crust of lies has grown thicker. It has distorted everything. I don’t think Joe and I will ever recover from this. And the look in his eyes tells me he knows it.