I could imagine Scott sitting on the chair with Drew on the coffee table, legs almost touching, intimidating the hell out of him.

‘Is Scott drunk?’ I asked.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘What do you think I should do?’

‘Push the twat out of the kitchen window and hope he doesn’t bounce.’

Despite my anxiety, I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘And a sensible suggestion would be…?’

‘Send him packing, of course. Jemma! You’re not seriously thinking of taking him back, are you?’

I paused for a moment. Was I? When I’d been talking to Leah earlier, Scott had gone silent on me again so it wasn’t a possibility. But if he was at the flat…? ‘I don’t know what to think about anything at the moment. I’m so confused.’

‘You loved Scott, Jemma, but Scott doesn’t exist. He’s a figment of Adam’s imagination. You don’t love Adam. You don’t even know Adam, for God’s sake. And Adam’s the one who’s real. Unfortunately.’

I didn’t want to argue with her. ‘I’ll see you shortly.’

‘Don’t take him back. He’s a liar. From the minute you met him, he’s deceived you. Don’t lose sight of that.’

Scott – I couldn’t think of him as Adam – and Drew both stood up when I pushed open the door to the flat.

‘Jemma!’ Scott sheepishly held up a bunch of flowers.

As Leah and I had raced back to the flat, I’d wondered how I was going to react when I came face to face with him. Would I burst into tears and rush to hug him? Would I feel numb? Sick? Angry? Really, really angry. Looking at him now with his pathetic peace-offering, I saw red.

‘You really think a paltry bunch of supermarket flowers can make up for what you’ve done?’

He looked down at them, shamefaced. ‘There were no proper florist shops open.’

‘Oh my God, Scott! You’re missing the point. It’s the flowers, not the origin. After what you’ve done, you seriously expect a bunch of flowers to fix it?’

‘No, but…’

Drew walked towards me, and touched my arm. ‘Do you want me to stay?’

I shook my head. ‘Thanks, though.’

‘We’re in our rooms if you need us.’ He rubbed my arm, then turned round to face Scott. ‘You!’ He pointed two fingers towards his eyes then towards Scott. Very childish but I appreciated the gesture.

My three flatmates headed to their rooms. I dropped my bag on the floor, shrugged off my coat and hung it up on one of the hooks by the door while trying to slow my racing heart. Why did he have to be so damned gorgeous? He was wearing his charcoal grey suit and a sky blue shirt – the outfit he knew I found sexiest. He wasn’t playing fair.