Funnily enough, I was. Sometimes, for no obvious reason, the universe decides to cut us some slack—because six weeks on from Mum’s party, despite my sisters’ gloomy predictions, I hadn’t crashed and burned. Undeniably, emotions were coming at me from all directions and it was a lot, but I was coping.

As I was in good form, I decided to check in on Kallie’s Instagram. I’d been keeping a casual eye on her page, trying to not obsess. Recently, there had been a lot about her music: she’d done back-up vocals on someone’s demo and spent a week at a song-writing bootcamp. But nothing about Luke.

Every day without a picture of him, I exhaled a little more.

But this morning was different.

This latest shot was a selfie, with Kallie’s pretty face in the foreground. Several feet behind her was Luke, next to a huge, dark horse. He seemed to be speaking soothingly to it. The caption was ‘Playing hard to get’. Followed by several laughing emojis, then a red heart.

Frozen in place, I stared and stared, shocked by how jealous I felt, how deeply disappointed.

Steeling myself, I clicked on her stories. There she was, sparkly-eyed and pretty. ‘Hi guys!’ she carolled. ‘So! Yeah, that was a meaningful “so”.’ She laughed. ‘I’mmmm…yeah, hoping for some good news. Some…positive changes in my life. It’s too soon to go public on it, just in case it…’ She presented her cupped hands to the camera, then divided them. ‘…falls away. I’m asking for your prayers and positive energy. Whatever you got, send them my way!’

I watched it five or six more times, wondering what the hell this positive life change could be. Moving in with Luke? Getting married to Luke?

Jesus Christ.

And here came Claire. In the six weeks since the commencement of Operation Rally-Round, a Saturday-morning hike had become a thing.

‘Were you on Insta?’ she asked.

I nodded. ‘What good news is she hoping for?’

‘Fuck alone knows.’ Claire wasn’t putting a positive spin on this, which was a worry.

‘And what about the photo?’ I asked. ‘Who was playing hard to get? Kallie?’

‘I don’t know, babes. Could be Luke. Could even have been the horse.’

It could even have been the horse. The actual issue, the only thing that was truly important, was that my feelings for Luke hadn’t settled yet. Not even close. The Costello man-lurve dopamine had mutated into some sort of tragic crush. Late at night, when I couldn’t sleep, I let myself indulge in all kinds of fantasies where somehow Luke and I were together again.

But I knew it would never happen.

Or so I’d thought. This morning, Kallie’s photo had shown me that I’d got far too attached to the idea.