As I’m running these thoughts through my head, I can feel myself drifting off to sleep and I don’t even try to fight it.

By 6:30 p.m., after waking up groggy and woolly-headed, I’m showered and changed, and feeling more refreshed. But the nagging feeling of not knowing what to say to Dom is still hanging over me – a slightly sick feeling in my gut. Just as I’m zipping my lipstick and eyeliner into the inside pocket of my handbag, there’s a knock at my door. I pad through to the hallway, peer through the peephole and unlock the door.

‘You’re really not for using the buzzer, are you?’ I say to Dom in place of a greeting.

‘Someone let me in again.’ He shrugs.

‘I’m going to guess that you don’t like feeling like a visitor.’

‘You know me too well. We did used to live together, so it doesn’t feel right. You look beautiful, by the way.’

He steps forward and gives me what initially seems to be a lingering kiss, then pulls back as suddenly as before. It’s a smart tactic and leaves me wanting more. I touch my lips gently, feeling guilty about how good it felt when I was doing the same with Matt just hours earlier.

‘I’ve got a taxi waiting outside,’ he says, before I can say anything. ‘Ready?’

‘Oh, are we going far?’

‘Nope. But I thought it would be better to conserve your energy.’

As much as another walk is the last thing I feel like after this afternoon, I can’t help feeling a bit irked that Dom hasn’t let me decide what I think is best for me.

We head downstairs and get into the waiting cab. It meanders its way through the residential streets, joining the main road just before the Five Ways roundabout, and I realise I have no idea where we’re going.

‘What restaurant have you booked?’

‘You’ll see.’ Dom has a glint in his eye that tells me he’s up to something. ‘Just sit back and relax.’

Minutes later, the taxi pulls into a wide driveway and comes to a stop outside an impressive white Georgian-style building with bay windows, and what looks like beautifully landscaped gardens (though it’s hard to see in the dark).

‘This looks posh.’ I raise an eyebrow at Dom.

‘It’s a long time since I took you for dinner. Figured I owe you a good one.’

He pays the driver and we head inside, where we’re greeted by solid dark wooden floors, white walls and tastefully art-bedecked walls. The lighting is low, creating a romantic feel, and there’s an autumnal scent that smells a bit like fig and sandalwood in the air. The super-polite hostess immediately welcomes us with a broad smile and invites us to take a seat in the lounge for an aperitif. We’re shown to one of the tables in the bay window, where we make ourselves comfortable.

‘What would you like to drink?’ Dom asks me.