We were both silenced now.

‘It’s a decision I’ve regretted ever since,’ I added after a few seconds. I breathed out, my head pounding. I fought back tears again. Once the floodgates opened, I wasn’t sure how they would close. I really didn’t want to cry. Not naked in bed with him.

He reached for my hand and squeezed it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I could have been there for you if I had known before, but I only found out when it was too late. I was young and scared. It must have been so hard.’

I moved my hand away from his. I could have been there for you. Did he have any idea what that meant?

It was the best but also the worst thing he could say.

‘But if you knew – why weren’t you? I’ve lived with the guilt of terminating our baby, of you not knowing, of betraying someone I loved, my friends, of hating my parents, of dropping out of a university I loved… The list goes on. And it doesn’t get any easier with time, I assure you. If anything, it has got harder as I’ve come to realize the full implications of what I did. And all this time, you knew. Who told you?’

‘It doesn’t matter any more,’ he said.

Tears filled my eyes and I closed the lids for a moment to try to hold them in.

‘I’m sorry, Lucy, I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have found you again.’

‘Found me?’ I said, in a tone that was half way between laughter and yelling. ‘Now you’re telling me you found me?’

‘I looked you up, you’re easy to find online. The PR company has your profile on its site.’

‘You stalked me yesterday?’

‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’

‘Why did you find me, Jason?’

‘I was intrigued. But, like I said, I can see now that it was a bad idea.’

He was getting out of bed as he said this, searching out his clothes which were scattered all around the floor. He put on his boxers and collected the other items. His nakedness now seemed sordid.

‘I can’t believe you’ve done this to me,’ I seethed, barely able to get the words out, my head felt so muddled – a combination of the alcohol still in my system and how horribly wrong this morning’s post-coital chat was going.

‘I’ll go, I can see you need to be alone,’ he said, already half-dressed. He just wanted to leave.

After I heard the front door close, I lay there in shock, unmoving, lost in thought I looked around the room, only my own clothes strewn across the floor now. I began piecing together the events of last night and how it felt to have Jason’s body pressed into mine; I could still smell him, feel his warmth on my skin; I could still taste him in my mouth. There was a fug of him all over me, the sheets and in the air. The smell of sex enveloped my body. I could remember us having sex, him on top of me and then him rolling me over so I could ride him. My breasts beating against his chest as he firmly held my hips and took me fast and furiously; filling me up, squeezing my bottom in his hands. We were consumed by lust and lost in each other’s bodies. I had a vague recollection of things slowing down and then him rolling off me and passing out. I couldn’t be sure whether or not he came, but I’d hazard a guess he did. I knew we hadn’t used any protection because I didn’t have any in the flat.