‘Quin, no PDAs!’ Urgently, I nodded at the solid citizens in their robust swimwear. ‘We’re not in the Maldives.’

He laughed, a bit too much, as if he were stoned. ‘Sixty seconds,’ he said, droplets of salt water falling from his spiky eyelashes. ‘That’s all we have to stay in, to get the benefit. Should we count down?’

‘Already doing it!’ I could hardly speak, so numb were my lips.

The moment the sixty seconds were up, we were out of that water, our skin tingling, our mood sky-high. Wrapped in our towels, with our coats thrown over them, we stopped off for take-out coffees, then drove to Quin’s house, an extensively renovated, end-of-terrace Victorian four-bed with a huge modern kitchen extending into the large back garden.

Look at me now, Luke.

Quin dumped our stuff on the kitchen island. ‘Which first? Coffee or shower?’

‘Shower.’ I was already halfway up the stairs. ‘I need to warm up.’

‘I’ll warm you up!’ he called meaningfully.

‘You’ve no chance when you say things like that!’

Under the deluge of scalding water, I shuddered with pleasure. Quin appeared in the bathroom, putting his towel in the laundry basket. I stuck my head out and said, ‘Come here.’

‘You sure?’ The relief in his eyes shot tenderness through me.

Poor Quin—unsettled by Luke’s sudden reappearance and trying to not make it about him. I pulled him in, laying the palms of my hands on his chest, smoothing my way along the width of his shoulders, pressing the length of my body up against his. He was solid and real and I needed that.

The past was terribly sad, but it was the past. This was my life now and it was a good one.

Look at me now, Luke.

‘Y’okay?’ Quin pulled back to look at me.

‘Yeah. Just …I’m glad you’re back.’

‘Me too.’

In the gaps between our words, a lot was being communicated.

I love you.

I love you too.

I could just say it. It would be so simple.

But to tell him, for the first time, two short days after I’d seen my ex-husband would somehow sully it, I felt.

Quin switched off the shower and wrapped me in towels. In the bedroom, while I gulped my coffee, he combed my damp hair and dried it with the ridiculously expensive, multi-function hairdryer he’d purchased back when I’d finally conceded we were in an actual relationship.

‘So, tell me,’ Quin said.

Choosing my words carefully, I said, ‘I’m okay. Mostly okay. Seeing him has stirred up things which I’d thought…I never thought they were gone forever, but they’d settled to the bottom, I’d forgotten about them. I wasn’t ready to feel them again.’

‘And you feel…?’