First, you must consider the damage. When the slatted light from the window softens the red glare of the lampshade and your side of the bed is greying, I know it’s time to act. I lift my head and look around. Here is my sore neck. Here are my thighs, stiff and sticky with night sweat. There is your dressing gown on the back of the door, hanging like a bandage. The moccasins are missing; you left the hiking boots behind. You were in a hurry. In an emergency, leave behind anything that might weigh you down: bags, coat and other personal belongings. But why have you chosen the moccasins over the hiking boots?

I am utterly exhausted. I shut my eyes and it’s the wrong thing to do, because as ever with closed eyes, my other senses are sharpened. It all comes back to me with the taste of last night’s dinner: something with leek. I can’t quite remember.

Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened.

I liked having dinner with you.

What you did is you collected the plates from dinner, took them to the kitchen, and waited for me to come through and wash them. Fish. Haddock. That’s what I’d made. Yours in a cream sauce, mine steamed and cut into morsels. The plates were there on the side, sticky with fish and wet vegetables.

I ran the hot tap and took off the engagement ring. I put on the Marigolds instead.

Sometimes the body knows before the mind. Something in your tone, or how you began, by calling my name.

‘Ruth.’

Water hit the hem of my right glove, scalding my wrist. I pulled my hand away.

‘Neil,’ I said.

My fingers throbbed inside the yellow gloves. I was distracted, interested in my own task. We weren’t often apart from each other in the evenings and so I cultivated my small solitudes in mundane pockets of the day, retreating to a quiet corner of my mind when busy with something. So that when I was with you – with you – I could really be present.

Now I was busy.

‘Ruth,’ you said. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’

The mind, you see? The truth is that, right then, I wasn’t fully there. Only with difficulty can I trace back to those few moments before things fragmented.

I wondered if you were testing the skills you’d learnt in your mindful assertiveness class. Or if you’d found something else to be excited about, after the percussion box, plant cuttings, upholstery class and fossil collection. This current wholesome phase, at least, didn’t make as much noise or take up as much space.

I made a sound to convey my engagement. You wanted more.

‘Yes,’ I said, finally, looking over my shoulder. ‘What is it?’

‘I’ve had an epiphany. I think.’