Life can take a turn for the better in the flick of a switch like it did when I found a second chance with Tom, but then just like my dad said, in one day it can all change for the worst. It’s cruel and unkind, but maybe a blessing in disguise that tomorrow is blind and we don’t have any idea what’s coming our way.

Tom Farley is a thorn in Matthew’s side for all his tomorrows and also his yesterdays – a reminder of an old him, a wake-up call that came to him in an unrequited love, that it seems he just isn’t quite over yet, no matter how long has passed. Out of sight, out of mind, was working for him but if this is what the mention of Tom’s name can do to him, imagine what it would be like if he had to see him with me. It feels like everything is slipping away from Tom and me, and it’s totally out of our control.

‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to make this work between us?’ I ask him, knowing in the pit of my stomach that we won’t.

‘I guess we don’t have to make any decisions just yet, Charlie,’ Tom says to me. ‘Let’s not panic, and please don’t cry or you’ll start me off. I’m parked outside a really posh apartment in Dublin where I’ve to show some Kardashian-type sisters round and try to make a sale, so red, puffy eyes won’t get me off on the best foot.’

He’s trying to make me laugh but all I can do is imagine him in his suit, shirt and tie, his tousled hair all tidied, and I just want to run to him even more.

‘I’m not crying,’ I lie, losing my breath into a deep sob. ‘I don’t know if I can take this all in. This will ruin us. I fear it already has.’

And now I can tell that he is crying too. I know it by his voice, his gorgeous, gravelly voice, the way it cracks when he speaks to me. I’ve a feeling this is the start of a long goodbye and he knows it is, too.

‘Look, I’m always on the end of the phone so talk to me when you want to, no matter what time of day or night,’ he says, clutching at straws like I am. ‘We can meet up once we know Matthew is on the mend and see where we are then, OK? We don’t have to give up just yet, do we?’

I look up at the ceiling.

‘No,’ I say, as my heart sears in pain. ‘Not yet.’