I stare at him, unable to do anything but blink. Eventually, he feels my eyes on him. He stares at me blankly.

‘What?’

‘I’m just trying to work out whether you’re high or you’ve lost your mind,’ I reply.

‘What are you talking about?’ he asks rudely.

‘I’m not doing your bloody washing,’ I tell him. ‘And I’m flabbergasted this doesn’t go without saying.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because we’re not together any more,’ I reply, frustrated. Did he really think I’d keep doing his washing?

‘I thought we were giving it another go,’ he insists.

I don’t know what I find more disturbing, the fact that he thinks I’d give him another chance or that he thought we were getting back together and the first thing he asked me to do was his dirty washing.

‘Why would you think that?’ I ask.

‘Because you’re coming home with me,’ he says with a smile. Because a smile makes everything okay, right?

‘These are our pre-booked seats,’ I tell him. ‘We’d already paid for them.’

Now I’m beginning to wish I’d paid the extra money for a different flight, or at least exit seats so I could take my chances with a parachute.

‘Wait, so if you haven’t picked me, why did you bin off Freddie?’ he asks. ‘I was outside the villa this morning, he was outside too, talking to his American friend. Sounded to me like he’d been dumped. Why would you dump him?’

I honestly have no idea, but I really, really wish I hadn’t.

40

Five Months Later

‘Cast your mind back five months ago,’ Ali demands. ‘Back when we were in Italy.’

‘Wow, was that five months ago?’ I reply.

Where the hell has the time gone?

If it’s five months since we got back, then it’s pretty much five months since I moved back into a flat-share with Ali.

I was adamant that I didn’t want to give up my house and thankfully Daniel wasn’t precious about keeping it. But going back there after everything that happened, I somehow just knew things would never be the same. It was like walking around a graveyard of our life together. How was I supposed to get up every day and look into a bathroom mirror that Daniel put up, before eating breakfast in the kitchen we chose together? And then there were those awful hallway tiles that he chose, that I hated, that we ended up with because he won the game of Rock, Paper, Scissors – our last resort when it came to decision-making.

What was I going to do? Spend thousands of pounds having work done? Work that we’d spent thousands on already. In the end, we decided just to sell the place and split what little money we got from the sale after the mortgage was paid off. A clean break for all involved.

A clean break, but not a new beginning. I’m off the property ladder and back to renting a room, living with Ali like the good old days. In some ways, it’s exactly like the good old days because Ali isn’t here most nights and on the nights when she is here, she’s quite chilled out and quiet. I am yet to hear any unnecessarily loud sexcapades, but you’re not going to hear me moaning – so I guess that makes two of us.