‘Wait, what?’

He has my attention now.

‘Lila.’ Daniel gets down on one knee. ‘Will you do me the honour of being my wife?’

I stare at him.

‘You cheated on me,’ I tell him. ‘Up to – and on – our wedding day. What makes you think I’m keen to relive that?’

‘Okay, don’t marry me,’ he says. ‘But let’s go back home and work on our relationship.’

‘Get up,’ I insist, pulling him to his feet. ‘Daniel… I’m with Freddie now.’

Well, I sort of am… kind of… we need to talk, obviously, but I haven’t got round to it yet. But I want to be.

‘He’s just a holiday fling,’ Daniel tells me. ‘You’re just a holiday fling to him.’

‘It’s more than that,’ I insist.

‘So what happens next?’ Daniel asks me. ‘You go back to your life, he goes back to his. You’re living with me in our house in London. He’s shagging models on Hollywood Boulevard. You’re working on our sofa in your onesie. He’s working on movies thousands of miles away for months at a time. Tell me how that works long term.’

I stare at him for a second. I don’t have an answer for him.

‘He won’t cheat on me while we’re apart,’ I tell him. ‘What else even matters? We’ll make it work.’

‘How do you know he won’t cheat on you?’ Daniel asks.

‘Because he wouldn’t do that,’ I reply.

‘Okay, did you think I would do that?’ he asks me.

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. I’m so warm I feel as if I’m going to be sick.

‘Well, no,’ I admit.

‘I was cheating on you for months,’ he reminds me. ‘You had no idea. Freddie is going to be in other countries, with girls throwing themselves at him – he’s paid to film movies with romance and sex scenes. He’s going to be kissing other girls and you’re going to be watching him on TV, wishing it was you, and you can’t even call him and tell him because of the time difference.’

‘Daniel, he’s an actor. He has to kiss other people – all actors do.’ I stop trying to justify my relationship to him. ‘I cannot believe this is your big speech for trying to win me back.’

‘No big gestures,’ he says – other than his second, half-hearted proposal, I imagine. ‘No games. Just honesty and common sense. We belong together. He’s just some guy you shagged on holiday because you were mad at me – and I get it.’

‘I’m so glad you get it,’ I reply sarcastically.

He’s the one who doesn’t get it. Trying to win me back without so much as an ‘I love you’ or an ‘I’m sorry’.

‘Look, no more tears,’ he says, wiping his eyes. ‘No more begging. We’ve got our original tickets for flying home tomorrow so let’s just take some space now, talk on the flight tomorrow, figure out what happens next. You can’t run away from the fact we have a life together. I might have made a mistake, but I’ll never do it again. You can keep tabs on me forever. But with Freddie, won’t you always be worried, wondering? Every time he kisses a co-star or you see him on a red carpet with some dolly bird. Every tabloid article saying he’s shagging some Spice Girl or other.’