‘What makes you think my life is perfect?’ I asked him. ‘If my life was perfect, would I have been falling for another man? You know, Michael, you know what I felt for you. You know it was real. I believed you.’

‘You were putting your own needs above those of your family. You plead and cry “My girls, Michael, think of my girls.”’ He mimicked my voice as he spoke, ‘But what thought did you give to your girls when you were fucking me? And then, like everyone else in your life, I became disposable, didn’t I? Pretend it was about them, all you want, but it was about you. You’d had your fun. Christ, Rachel, you begged me to fuck you just minutes before you broke it off.’

He was twisting my words, my actions and my motives. It wasn’t like that. Or was it? Had I been too blind, too selfish like he said, to see what I was doing? But even if I was, I didn’t deserve this. Any of it. I couldn’t hold back my tears as I thought of who I’d hurt because of this.

‘You’re crying now because I’ve called out your lies and your selfishness. It hurts to look in a mirror, Rachel, doesn’t it? To learn what kind of a person you really are.’

I put my hands over my ears. I didn’t want to listen to him. He didn’t understand.

He just stared at me, his eyes roaming over my body before he pulled a seat across the room and sat on it.

‘You can stand there all day,’ he said, ‘hands over your ears, but I’ll still be here. Nothing will have changed.’

I watched as he delved into the rucksack, pulled out two pre-packed sandwiches and threw one across the room to me.

‘Eat,’ he said. ‘And let’s not go through some stupid song and dance with you refusing to eat. You’ll be hungry. You’ll eat it anyway, no matter what you say, so just cut to the chase and eat it now.’

I lifted the chicken salad sandwich off the floor, fetched the other abandoned school chair and sat on it. I couldn’t deny I was hungry, but my stomach was tight with tension. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat. I took a small bite; it turned to sawdust in my mouth but I knew I needed to keep up my strength. I forced my way through one sandwich, leaving the other in the packet. I wouldn’t make the same mistake that I’d made with the water again.

He eyed me suspiciously before reaching again into his bag and rolling a can of Fanta across the floor to me.

I lifted it, popped it open and took a long drink before sitting it back on the ground.

‘What now?’ I asked him.