I go to bed and lie awake again, staring at the ceiling feeling empty and lonely inside at all I have to lose if I don’t get my act together. I’d be nothing without Jack, as much as it’s not cool to admit it. Yes, I’ve a career to pursue and I know I’m a great teacher, and yes I will probably find the courage someday to write down some songs that actually make sense to others and that they might even like to hear, but I love my life and I love my husband. I don’t need to find myself or love from within, thank you very much self-help books. I want my husband but I need to prove to myself and to him that I can do this, and then walk away guilt free and lock the door of Tom Farley in my mind forever.

I close my eyes, roll over and put my hand on Jack’s cool empty pillow, feeling a raw grip of fear in my stomach as the thought of losing him becomes real.

And then my phone bleeps, making me turn over in the bed to reach out for it. I check the time. It’s after midnight so I know it can be only one of two people – either it’s Matthew wanting me to hear one of his latest compositions that just can’t wait until morning, or it’s Tom Farley in some last-minute miracle.

Charlie! Here’s my number, gorgeous. Call me.

Oh Jesus.

My whole insides leap and I sit up on the bed, staring at the seven simple words on my phone screen.

Charlie! Here’s my number, gorgeous. Call me.

I can hear him say it as I read his words. There’s no signature, no telling who it is, but of course there is no need to. It’s him. He called me Charlie.

This is it then. I feel weak.

I lie back and hold my phone to my chest, wondering if I can pick up the courage to actually go ahead with what I’d planned. This is what I’ve been waiting on for two whole days. Hell, no, make that years and years. I can’t pull out now. I need to see if being face to face with the man I used to love will shake off the cobwebs of the past once and for all.

I press call on my phone and I wait to hear his voice with my eyes closed and my heart thumping. I’m going to speak to him at long last. This is what I’ve been waiting on, isn’t it? I can’t back out now.

The phone rings, and rings and then I hear his voicemail.

‘Tom here. Shoot me a message and I’ll get back to you. Cheers!’

I gulp. I try to speak. My voice squeaks.