The words are portentous and foreboding, giving Ben a tight knot in his stomach. He thumbs a quick reply while walking back to the lift.

That doesn’t sound good. What’s up? X

We’ll talk tonight.

I’ll be late home tonight . . . What’s up? Can you talk? X

No. Busy. We’ll talk tonight.

I love you Steph but you’re acting weird lately. What was that about last night? I can tell something is wrong x

Last night?

The sex. What was that about?

Did you like it?

Yeah course I did but it was a bit strange. I hate text conversations. Can you talk?

From his office to the Tube station, with that knot in his gut growing harder with every reply. Even the delay of her replies spoke volumes. There was a time the replies came almost instantly, but now they didn’t, like he was an afterthought or an irritation.

The signal goes as the carriage doors on the Underground train seal him into the packed masses. He stares down at his phone seeing his future disappear as quickly as the signal bar fades on the screen. In the end he pockets the phone and stares round as glumly as everyone else. His mind filling with images of his fiancée in the arms of another man. He’d kept those thoughts away but with the reality of the situation growing starker by the day it couldn’t help but start to creep in. He clears his throat and blinks rapidly to rid himself of the thoughts. His fist clamping hard on the safety rail.