‘I’m sad too. But what can we do? Get back together and then I’d disappoint you for ever? And take something so huge away from you? I can’t do that.’

A waitress with a resting-bitch-face comes over with a pad and pen, and a tattoo on her face. ‘Sorry for the delay. What would you like to order?’

‘Err, the classic hazelnut coffee for me, please,’ I say with a fake smile, shuffling the different paper parts of the menu.

‘Same please.’ Jacob’s tone is blunt. The waitress nods and leaves.

‘You hate coffee,’ I say.

‘I know,’ he laughed. ‘I panicked.’

I laugh at this and the tension between us disperses a little.

He takes a deep breath in then and says: ‘Look, I am trying to backtrack a bit here. I’ve realized that I am losing you over something, a thing, a person, that isn’t even born yet. That’s stupid. Yes, I want kids. But I want you too. I want to be with you. This entire break has been miserable, and I feel lost.’ He reaches for my hand. ‘It’s so stupid. I made such an effort this morning to scrub up nicely for you. Trust me, I’ve looked an absolute state for the past few weeks. I had a massive caveman beard up until yesterday, if you can imagine it. Even Steve said what a state I’ve looked.’

‘That’s rich coming from Steve.’

He tries to touch my hand again, but I recoil.

‘Look Jacob … Your family – your mum, your brothers – it’s all they talk about. Asking us about babies. I’ve found it so hard. I never know what to say to them!’ I pause and take a deep breath: ‘I’m scared that if we stay together, I will get pregnant. I’m scared I will just do it for you because I still … love you so much. And I’m scared it will be the worst decision of my life and I will never forgive you for coercing me into it.’ I close my eyes. The realization that I will always love him sets in like a rising tidal wave. What if I feel this awful and sad for ever?

The waitress plonks our coffees down on the table.

After she moves out of the way, he grabs my hand. ‘Olive, I love you too.’

‘Don’t, Jacob.’

‘I would never force you into it,’ he says, desperately but gently.

‘No, I know. I just … this is all going to end in tears.’ I edge my stool away.

‘Please.’

‘We both know you will be happier … without me.’

I know that, deep down, Jacob understands how awful the situation will become later down the line if we don’t end it now. But this still feels physically painful, saying goodbye to someone you still love so deeply. We’ve already spent years sweeping it under the carpet. Years deferring it. Years doing the whole ‘ah we have loads of time’. But it has got to the point where we can’t continue to sweep. If I get pregnant, I won’t want to have it, and that would absolutely kill Jacob. He is desperate for kids and I am actively hurting him by holding them back from him. I’ve surprised myself with how adamant I’ve become. I just know being with him would be unfair to us both.