‘No, actually, don’t bother,’ I said, lying down on my side, propping my head on my hand. I’d seen him, trawled his Facebook account, was sick of his face. ‘But I’d like to meet him at some point … I mean, do you have a future together?’

‘Yeah, maybe.’ She smiled, sat next to me. ‘I really like him, Chris. He’s good with his hands and likes being out in nature. He’s the kind of guy I’ve always been drawn to.’ She laughed.

I did too, because I wanted release and marital harmony. But also because it was genuinely funny how my stomach acids had coalesced into a workable fist pounding the fuck out of my insides. Maybe because a fist was made from a hand, and I too – although Sarah couldn’t see it – was good with my hands. If hands were needed, mine would be perfectly adequate. I played the guitar, fixed bikes, got really small batteries in and out of Sophie and Oliver’s toys.

Or maybe my stomach acids had coalesced into a fist because they were a miracle of nature, which I could fully appreciate because I – despite Assi having a monopoly on all things bright and beautiful – liked to be out, in, and comprised of nature.

‘Does it worry you that I’m so into him?’ she said, getting under the covers.

‘Not really. Yeah. Nah. I guess I feel second-best or something, that’s all.’

‘You’re not second-best, Chris. You mean everything to me. This was your idea, remember – all of it. And you have Biddy now. That’s the only reason we’re doing this.’

‘I like being out in nature.’

‘I know you do.’

‘I just need to know if there’s a chance, you know, for you and me, to ever –’

My phone. Biddy: I’d really like you to be here!

I sat up, propped myself against the wall, stared at the message, my thumbs over the keyboard, poised. I … No, I didn’t want to go out. If I’d gone earlier …

Sarah lifted her phone, tilted it away from me. She was working in the morning, meaning I’d have to cope with the kids’ overwhelming zest for life until she got home eight hours later. Going out at this late hour … No, that was inconceivable.

Especially given there was a minute chance Sarah and I would physically reconnect.

‘Looking at Facebook?’ I asked.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘And some other things.’

Her phone pinged. I absorbed as much as I could through my spider-sense. ‘Assi, yeah?’

‘Ah, yup.’ Her happy voice.

‘Right, that’s good,’ I said, not turning to face her.

Dingding. Zac: Man, you should totally come. Just jump in an Uber, seriously.