He sat angled away from her, his eyes raking over the cobbled street, the small fountain, towards the river.

‘Do you still love me, Jules? Sometimes I wonder, if you loved me maybe you’d stop? Maybe I’m not enough?’ He was crying again, like he had all the times they’d received bad news, like he had the first time she’d done this. ‘Actually, you know what, forget it. Forget I said that.’ He pulled his jumper sleeve over his knuckles and rubbed at his eyes. He rolled his shoulders back, squaring his posture. She could sense him mentally preparing to leave, could imagine him reminding himself of what his therapist would have told him. She knew he knew but she reminded him anyway. She owed him that at least.

‘It’s not about you,’ she said softly. He nodded.

‘I know,’ he said, ‘I know. I wish I could reach you,’ he sighed, but she was already shutting down, shifting further along the bench away from him, her own self-preservation stepping up.

‘Can I transfer you the money, anyway?’ she asked.

He turned and stared at her for a long time. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed. ‘Huh,’ was all he said. ‘Huh.’

She rolled her lips inward as she watched his expression unfold, surveying her.

‘You know you’ll gamble it. Two hundred thousand bucks and you know you can’t hold on to it,’ he said. ‘Huh.’ It was as though he was seeing her afresh. Had he realised she was in a worse position than he thought or were his worst fears being confirmed?

‘No, that’s not it,’ she said, but her eyes had flown back down to the pavement. ‘I know you’ll look after it, that’s all. It’s a lot of money. And I’ve got debts to repay. I’ve enough now to cover it all. To start again. Please,’ she said. ‘Please take it.’

‘What is this, if not an addiction?’ he asked, his brown eyes burning into hers.

‘It’s a coping mechanism,’ she snapped defiantly, in an obviously tone.

‘Same difference!’ He threw his hands up, exasperated.

‘It’s not my fault. If we could have had a baby, then…’

‘I lost the chance to have a baby too.’ He stood, his hands in his pockets, as though he were bracing himself against the wind, but it was a mild, sunlit morning. ‘I’ll always be here for you, Jules, but if I don’t step away, this will destroy us both. I can’t keep bailing you out.’

‘You don’t need to!’ she said, standing up and clutching the handle of her suitcase. ‘I won back the money.’

‘This time. You’re an addict, Jules, and you need to do something about that.’

She watched him walk away. His shoulders hunched, his head bowed. ‘But I love you!’ she shouted down the street, horrified but desperate.

He turned, put both hands to his mouth and extended them towards her: a goodbye kiss. His eyes were brimming and overspilling with tears. He didn’t need to say it. He loved her too. He always had. But he was still walking away. He turned and left, his footsteps quicker this time, his head still shaking.