Lily heard impatience in her voice and rushed to fill the silence. “Anyway, how’s work? The redundancy stuff on my end is a nightmare. I wish they’d just be honest and say they’re getting rid of me instead of making me go through this ridiculous charade.”

“It’s shitty, the way they’re treating you. I’m sorry. But you’ll find something else, something better. You know you will. You’re too good at your job not to.”

Lily thought about the meetings she’d already had with headhunters and how, at each one, she couldn’t muster any excitement about the prospect of marketing airlines or clothes or one brand of beer over another. “I’ve been thinking. You were right in what you said, before you left. It’s ridiculous that we spend so little time together. We give far too much time to our jobs and not enough to each other. And it’s not as if anyone’s genuinely grateful for all the hours we put in. So how about we carve out some proper time for each other? Why don’t I come out there for a week or two? I’ve got plenty of leave owing. We could act like proper tourists for a few days together. And then, when you get back, we should institute a proper date night: once a week, nonnegotiable, whatever’s going on at work. Start putting ourselves—and each other—first, instead of always being slaves to our jobs. I think it could be just what we need.”

Her words tripped over each other, eager to escape before he had a chance to interrupt her.

Daniel was silent and Lily pressed the phone harder against her ear.

“Are you still there? Did you hear all that?”

“Yes, I heard. Look, it’s clearly not a good time to talk. You go and enjoy the concert and let’s speak another time.”

Something in Daniel’s tone made Lily grip the phone more tightly. “No, it’s fine. Like I said, it’s ages before the concert starts. You sound strange. What’s up?”

There was a pause.

“Honestly, it’s nothing we need to talk about now. It’s just . . . Well, there’s an option for me to extend for another six months, that’s all.”

That’s all. Daniel’s unsentimental delivery hummed in Lily’s ears.

“You’re thinking of staying there? For a whole year? What about us? What about Phoebe?”

Her voice began to fracture and she swallowed, trying to meld it back together.

“Nothing’s been decided yet. I did say this wasn’t a good time to talk about it.”

The hairs on Lily’s arms bristled. She tried to imagine Daniel in an apartment she’d never seen, in a city she wasn’t living in, and was aware of fears she didn’t want to acknowledge needling her, demanding to be noticed. “This is just about work, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

Lily hesitated, wishing she’d bought herself a glass of wine, that she could take a few gulps before answering. “This isn’t . . . It’s not about us, is it?”