‘You need closure,’ Elliot states adamantly as Lachie jumps up and pecks me casually on my cheek. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt, despite the heavy rain.

‘You want a beer, Bronnie?’ he calls over his shoulder as he heads into the kitchen.

‘Sure,’ I call back distractedly. ‘Well, Alex has been in the building for two weeks and I haven’t bumped into him yet,’ I say to Elliot. ‘I’m not sure I will.’

‘Then why don’t you email him to arrange a catch-up?’ Elliot suggests easily as Lachie returns to the table, chinking our bottles as he passes them over.

‘Maybe he’s right,’ Lachie chips in with a shrug.

‘Are you serious?’ I stare at him in shock, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

‘Lay it to rest, once and for all,’ he continues. ‘You’ve been tetchy as hell lately. This is your one chance to see him and move on. Once he’s gone, he’s gone. Hopefully for good,’ he adds drily.

I put my bottle to my lips and tilt, deciding to get as drunk as I can in as short a time as possible.

The next day, I’m still mulling over our conversation when I walk into the Tetlan lobby and press the button for the lift. The doors open, I step in – and freeze.

‘Sorry!’ I exclaim, quickly coming to my senses and moving off to the side as the person behind me crashes into my abruptly halted frame. I breathe in deeply to be sure, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter inside my stomach.

Alex has just been in this lift. I’m sure of it, because I can smell his aftershave. There’s only the faintest trace of musk, but it used to be like catnip to me.

By the time I’ve reached my desk, I’m in pieces. Devastated. I don’t understand how he still has the power to do this to me. I have to lay what happened between us to rest, and, if that means seeing him, then that’s my only option.

I pull out my chair, sit down, and send a text to Lachie, giving him one last chance to back down.

He doesn’t.

‘I’m sure,’ he replies. ‘Good luck.’

I text back that I love him, but don’t get a reply.

Opening up a new email, I type out a brief message to Alex:

Are you here? Want to go for lunch sometime?

He replies within minutes.

Yes and yes. Today?

We agree on 1 p.m., but I shirk his suggestion to meet downstairs in the foyer, naming a coffee shop a few blocks away. If I’m going to see Alex again, I don’t want anyone I know to bear witness to it.

I leave early and walk quickly, hoping to get there first and settle myself in before he appears. But, despite my best efforts, he’s already there, leaning up against the stone wall outside the coffee shop with his feet crossed at the ankles and his attention fixed on his phone screen. His posture reminds me of how he looked on the night we first met, leaning up against a pillar at the eighties club, playing Angry Birds on his phone.