Her world had started dying the day Wren took his last breath, the color and happiness leaching from everything around her. She knew she was bitter, but she couldn’t help it. Justin would walk with a limp forever? Well, Wren was dead. So who got the better deal here? She didn’t want these boys dead; she wanted her son alive.

Later that night, after a tense dinner which Vanessa barely touched, she went into the lounge and gave Ty a kiss goodbye.

She returned to the kitchen. ‘Where are you going?’ asked Billy in surprise. ‘It’s past seven.’

‘Thanks, I can tell the time.’ Sarcasm was not a good look on her, but it seemed like one thing she couldn’t avoid these days.

His face hardened. ‘Do what you want.’ He stood up and began to scrape the leftovers into the bin, all but throwing the plates into the sink. His body softened. ‘Ness?’ he said quietly as she picked up her bag. She stopped. ‘Do you want company?’ His offer of support.

She could see he was trying, today at least, but she wanted – no, needed – her space. ‘Billy… I don’t want to hurt you, but you’ve got to let me go. I need to be alone. One day I’ll take you with me again, but today’s not that day.’

His face sagged with her rejection. She desperately wanted to tell him that she still wanted to be married to him, but the words got stuck somewhere between her mind and her lips. Instead of saying all the things she wanted to say, she just left.

She revved the car out as she was reversing and ran over the curb on her way out. This time she knew where she was headed.

She rang the doorbell and the front light flicked on.

‘Vanessa?’

‘Hey, Mark, can I come in?’

‘Sure.’ She followed him inside his new place. It was clean and tidy – two things he’d never been when they were married. Actually, it looked nice.

‘I like your place.’

‘Thanks.’ He looked at her, really looked at her. ‘You OK? You look like shit.’

She burst out laughing before covering her mouth like she’d committed a sin. ‘You’re the first one to tell me that.’

He smiled. ‘Want a drink? Of tea, of course.’ She knew he didn’t drink anymore. It also showed in his body, which was beginning to lose its beer gut. He put the kettle on. ‘So, what’s up?’

‘I don’t have anywhere else to go.’ She burst into tears. His arms were around her in seconds, her head on his shoulder, closer than they had been when they were together.

‘It’s all right. Let it all out.’ He patted her on the back while she cried. Finally, she pulled back and he handed her a tissue.