I nodded. ‘His current passion is cycling, but he’s a serial hobbyist. He rides to work most days and goes out at least once a weekend with a group of other cyclists. Before that he was obsessed with golf, and he has an Austin Healey that he’s been slowly doing up.’ Very slowly, if you asked me.

‘Seems like Adrian has plenty of time to himself.’

Once again, I wasn’t sure what to say. As much as I hated our current situation, I didn’t hate Adrian—he wasn’t a bad person.

Megan filled the silence. ‘Do you ever go riding or play golf with Adrian?’

I laughed. ‘No, I don’t even own a bike and if I gatecrashed his rides or his golf games he’d be horrified.’

‘Hmm.’

I saw what she was saying, but it seemed very simplistic. ‘Just because we don’t have hobbies in common, doesn’t mean our relationship is doomed. We used to love watching TV or movies together. We’ve been through so much and supported each other through highs and lows. We have a similar sense of humour.’ Although when I thought about it, there hadn’t been a whole lot of laughs in our lives lately. ‘And when I was pregnant, we used to lie in bed together and Adrian would read to me.’

‘So you both like reading?’

My shoulders sagged. ‘We used to, but I read mostly magazines lately and I can’t remember the last time Adrian read anything besides podiatry journals. His iPad gets most of his attention these days.’

‘Do you resent that?’

I half-laughed. ‘Are you asking if I’m jealous of his iPad?’ The truth was, lots of times I found it a blessing. If he was playing games on his iPad when I came to bed, it meant I didn’t have to entertain him when I was tired.

Megan answered my question with one of her own. ‘You mentioned sex earlier. Do you still have a healthy sex life?’

I squirmed a little. ‘What do you define as healthy? Is there a specific number of times a week married couples are supposed to make love?’

‘That’s like asking me how long a piece of string is, but a sexless marriage is defined as one in which the partners have sex less than once a month or less than ten times a year.’

Again, her tone made this statement sound like a question. I tried to recall the last time Adrian and I had slept together before we separated. Was it the night we’d come home late from his mum’s seventieth birthday after having quite a lot to drink? That was about six weeks ago. Now that I thought about it, I think we both might have just fallen into bed and passed out. Shit.

Did we have a sexless marriage?