‘But you don’t.’

‘No. I don’t need you. But I do love her.’ Becky gripped the coffee mug a little tighter. ‘I’ll make things work with the three of us, for her sake. I’ll invite you over at some point, and you’ll accept our invitation. We’ll have dinner. It’ll make Maisie happy. You’ll go home after we’ve eaten. That’s how it will go. That’s what I want from you. All this …’ Becky gestured to Adam’s stained dressing-gown, to his haggard face and the clothes dumped on the floor, ‘This does nothing for anyone.’

‘What about you though?’

‘You can’t offer me anything I want that I can’t get for myself.’

Becky turned and watched a small aircraft lift itself out of the Docklands. Sunlight caught its portholes as it banked. She tried not to cry. She had once let herself love him and it had left its mark on her. Despite everything, for a moment she felt the urge to put her arms around him and to cry on his shoulder, for all of the things they had managed to lose together. For all of the damage done and the impossibility of finding a way around it.

But she let the urge pass.

‘You were really wasted,’ Adam said softly. ‘The next day when I woke up, I threw up and then I remembered … and I wanted to believe you’d wanted the same things I did. But I couldn’t be sure that was true. I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t ask you. I just hoped.’

Becky’s stomach lurched. Adrenaline made her skin tingle.

‘But that’s not enough, is it?’ he said. ‘And so maybe it’s true. Maybe that means that I raped you. That’s what it means, isn’t it? To not ask. To not know for sure. And whether it’s true or not, I’m sorry. I ruined so many things for you. I did that. I loved you, and I fucked up your life.’

She steadied herself, not letting him see it.

‘You …’ he raised his hands to his head and began to cry. ‘I’m so ashamed of what I did. Never letting you know.’