‘Do you really think I’d chuck my whole life away because of your bullshit?’

‘No, of course not. Sorry. I guess I can be pretty arrogant.’ Those damn hands, raised up now, like the fucking what-can-you-do emoji.

Lena finished her beer. She needed to walk away. Now.

‘How is your aunt doing?’

‘Not great.’

‘I’m sorry. And it’s only you taking care of her?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Hectic. Can I help at all?’

‘Yeah. Delete the video and then leave me alone forever.’

‘Lena.’ He looked like he was going to cry, for god’s sake. ‘I deleted it, like, an hour after I posted it. I’ve been going after every fucker I see sharing it. Look!’ He held up his hands, scabbed-over knuckles out. ‘I haven’t punched anyone since I was fourteen, and I’ve been in two fights this week.’

‘My hero.’

‘I’m not saying that, Lena, Jesus. I’m just trying to show you that I know I fucked up badly. If there was any other way to fix things I would. I’d do anything.’

My pride fell with my fortunes. Who said that? Someone who understood what it felt like to choose between eating shit once and being covered in it forever.

‘There’s this company,’ Lena said. ‘They scrub the internet of stuff like this. Find it all and get it deleted.’

‘I’ve heard about that kind of thing. I don’t think it works very well. Impossible to stop the—’

‘You know it’s on sydneysluts? My full name, my uni. All up there now.’

‘I’ll find who did that. I’ll get it off. I promise. Just … Fuck, I’m so sorry. I can’t sleep with thinking about what I’ve done. I’m going to fix it. I’ll look up that internet scrubbing company. I’ll …’ Tears. Actual frigging tears. He swiped them away with the back of his hand, flinching as his bruised knuckles made contact. ‘Whatever it takes, Lena. I promise.’

‘Okay.’

‘What?’

‘Okay. I accept your apology and your promise.’

A smile. Such a smile. ‘Thank you. That’s just … It’s everything, Lena. Everything. Thank you so much. You’re amazing.’

‘I need to go.’

‘Already? Let me buy you a drink at least. Unless your aunt needs you, of course.’

‘She’ll be okay a bit longer, I think.’

A showy little air-punch. ‘I’ll be right back.’

While he was at the bar, she turned her phone on, felt the familiar sick drop of her stomach as the screen filled with notifications, shoved it back in her pocket without looking at any of them.

Josh put a beer in front of her, slid into the booth. ‘Tell me about your aunt. Is she the one from the rose garden, the one who held you after you were born?’