Hi Drew, I think the years have caused you some memory fade. I would like to remind you that my name is Luukas and not “worthless piece of shit.” I had left the UK because my father took ill but he is well now, thank you for your sympathy. I am moving back to London. I thought we might reconnect as I do remember you being fun but now I think perhaps not. I will not pass on your wishes to my future husband for him to be attacked by a plague of vampire bats. I am sure you will understand why this is not a good conversation to have with the person you love. You disappoint me, Drew. It would appear that you still have not grown up in the three years since we were together. Grown men do not obsess about comic book heroes. This is why I could not be with you before. Grown men do not call each other names. This is why I cannot have you in my life now. It has been three years, Drew. THREE YEARS! Please move on with your life and get over it. It is my regret that I did not tell you we were over. I do not remember now why I did not. I am sad to have caused you so much pain for you to write such an angry message to me. Is this enough to put closure on our acquaintance? Good luck with your future life. Regards, Luukas.

Drew’s voice, slurred and wobbly throughout the reading, broke on the last sentence and he slumped back in his chair, sobbing, as the phone slipped from his hand.

I’d never seen Drew cry. Ever. I leapt up and hugged him, indicating to Sam to get rid of the bottle of vodka. He nodded and quickly hid it behind a cushion. I dreaded to think what Drew actually wrote to Luukas to result in such a response, but it had obviously been pretty vicious. It wouldn’t help for me to point that out, especially after Luukas had well and truly chastised him.

‘At least you know why he ended it,’ I suggested, stroking Drew’s back as though he was a baby. ‘I know being into comic books is a crap reason, but at least it’s a reason.’

The sobs slowed down until Drew was able to let go of me.

‘Sorry,’ he said, sitting back in the chair and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘I don’t know where that came from. I never cry.’

‘Not even when he first ghosted you?’ Sam asked.

‘Never.’

Sam nodded. ‘Grief. You’ve bottled it up for three years. It has just found its release.’

Drew ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair. ‘I had no idea he hated the comic book thing.’ He looked at Sam. ‘You’re into all that, right?’