‘This has to be the last… Lucy doesn’t deserve…’ His mouth dries. He hates to mention his wife’s name in her presence as though the sordidness of what he’s doing might somehow taint his home life.

‘But I need you.’ She speaks softly but Aidan knows that scratch the surface of her words and there’s a sharp edge. She’s scared of losing him and he’s scared of losing everything and he dreads to think of how she might react if he ignores her calls and texts. Didn’t turn up to meet her.

What would she say? What would she do? Fear makes people act out of character, do terrible, unforgivable things. He knows this undoubtedly to be true.

‘Look,’ he begins firmly, but then a shadow catches his eye.

A figure cutting through the car park. Aidan shrinks in his seat as he recognizes Connor’s mate, Tyler. But it is too late. Tyler raises his hand in a wave.

He’s seen him.

Seen her.

Bile stings his throat. Will Tyler tell Lucy? Tell Connor? Aidan is supposed to be at the Thompson farm, not here. Not with her.

He watches Tyler through narrowed eyes. He could ruin everything.

But Aidan knows the only thing ruining everything is his own weakness.

Connor.

Kieron.

Lucy.

His throat swells with emotion. He turns to her.

‘This has to stop. Please. I love my family and if Lucy finds out, she’ll—’

‘Shh.’ She places a finger over his lips. ‘Don’t say that. You know what I want.’

Aidan knows what she wants. He knows he’ll give it to her. He knows he will tell himself it will never happen again.

He knows he’s a liar.

Chapter Six

Lucy

Twelve days until Connor is taken

The light pushing through the window prods at the headache that’s already forming behind my temples, I turn away from the brightness, one hand reaching out towards Aidan, but his side of the bed is empty, sheets cool.

It’s early. The sky outside streaked with apricot. I find Aidan in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar staring at his phone, a mug of steaming coffee and a slice of half-eaten toast dripping with sticky golden honey in front of him. From Alexa, The Mamas and the Papas invite me to dream of California.

My eyes sting with tiredness. Throughout the night I had frequently checked on Kieron, the way I did with both of the boys when they were babies. Hand on chest, feeling the rise and fall. Fingers against the forehead, checking for signs of a temperature. Then, Aidan had never once called me obsessive, although obsessive is what I was.

It’s what I am again.

‘How did it go last night?’ I yawn as I slide onto a stool.

‘Last night?’ He wipes crumbs from his mouth. ‘Oh, the horse. Fine. So, first day of term.’

My stomach rolls with nerves.