‘Was it that bad?’ he asked, when I looked up.

‘Beautiful,’ I whispered. ‘Absolutely beautiful.’ I wiped my eyes with my hands and sniffed. Sam passed me his paper napkin, which I gratefully accepted.

‘Did you mean it?’ I asked, when I’d pulled myself together.

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. ‘Every single word. I want to be with you, Jemma, but I don’t want to rush you into anything that’s too soon for you or not right for you. I know you’ve been hurt and I know you’ve only just found out the truth about Scott so your emotions are going to be in turmoil. I also know how much honesty means to you so I want to be completely truthful about how I feel with no expectations or commitments. If and when you’re ready to tell me you feel the same, then I’m waiting. But if you don’t feel the same, then I understand and all I ask is that you’re truthful with me in return. I’ve been lucky enough for lightning to strike me twice but, just because I feel that way, it doesn’t mean that’s how you’re going to feel.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m babbling. Sorry.’

I stroked his hand with my thumb. ‘I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting to see you today or to have any of this.’

‘Honestly, Jemma, you don’t have to say anything. All I’m asking is for us to spend some more time together and to go out on some dates. Proper dates. We’ll take it slowly. Would you be willing to give it a try and see how you feel?’

I smiled at him. ‘So, it’s removals service, relationship advice, courier, superhero, and poet is it? Is there no end to your talents?’

He laughed. ‘I’m pretty certain they might have ended with the poetry.’

‘It’s amazing. It really is. Thank you.’ I glanced at the gift I had for him. ‘I know you said you had something else for me, but I’d like you to open your present now, if that’s okay. It will help to answer your question.’ I stood up and passed the large gift to him.

I nervously watched him unfasten the ribbon then peel back the tape. He removed the wrapping, exposing the back of a wooden picture frame. Turning the picture round to the correct side, he gasped. He studied each of the images carefully as I crouched beside him, watching the emotions wash over him, hoping I hadn’t spectacularly misjudged how he’d react to it.

He finally turned to me, his eyes sparkling with tears. ‘It’s… I can’t… Jem, I…’

Panic filled me. I had spectacularly misjudged it. ‘You hate it?’