‘Madam, your dessert.’ The waiter expertly places a beautifully presented dish in front of me. ‘This is the dark chocolate and chestnut tartlet, with pomegranate coulis, pistachio meringue shards and sweet pumpkin foam.’

‘It looks delicious.’ I turn the plate to get a proper look.

‘Sir, for you, the artisan cheese plate with charcoal crackers and our signature chutneys made with ingredients from our own allotment.’ The waiter explains Dom’s selection of cheeses and chutneys in the same way the sommelier described the wine options to him earlier.

‘So, have you enjoyed this?’ Dom asks me once the waiter has left our table.

‘I’m still enjoying it. This tartlet is off the scale. I’ve never tasted anything so scrumptious.’

‘I’m glad. And what about us? Where are we?’

I stop mid-chew. We’ve been having such a nice time catching up and just enjoying each other’s company, I’d almost forgotten this dinner comes with a big fat obligation.

‘Gosh, you just threw that one out there, didn’t you?’

‘Did I? I thought we were clear that this was what tonight was about.’

‘Well, yeah, obviously. But I thought the big chat would come after dinner.’

‘I’m not sure I can wait that long for your answer.’

I feel a rush of empathy for him, quickly followed by a tidal wave of guilt. ‘Right, that’s fair. I guess… well, I’ve had such a lovely evening with you. It’s almost like we’ve never had that time apart…’

‘I think so too.’ Dom nods.

‘…and I still have feelings for you…’

‘But are you still in love with me? That’s the biggest question.’ He tilts his head to one side in a puppy dog-like way, making me laugh.

‘How could I not be?’

As I say this, an overwhelming feeling of nausea passes through me. I instinctively get to my feet and Dom does the same.

‘Are you OK, kitten?’

‘I’m… err… sorry, can you just excuse me for a moment, I’m feeling a little odd.’

‘You’re not seeing double or anything, are you?’

I realise he’s referring to my MS. ‘Oh, no. Nothing like that. Probably just eaten too much.’

I give him an apologetic look and head for the ladies’ toilets. Inside I’m temporarily distracted by how plush they are, then as my mind slinks back to what’s just happened, that nausea washes over me again. What’s going on? Is it my MS after all? Or am I really just too full from all the food? I run the tap and put my wrists under the flow of the cold water to ground myself and figure out what’s going on. What did just happen? I was enjoying my dessert. Dom was asking about us. About our future. Without warning, my stomach flips uncomfortably. There it is again. It happens every time I think about Dom’s question: where are we?

But why? I’m still in love with him. He made me so happy before. Why not now?

Because I’ve changed, a voice in my head informs me. I’ve gone through hell this year and emerged with a new life and a new outlook. I just don’t know if that change means I should be with Dom or with Matt. I need more time. As this realisation hits me, I stare back at my reflection and swallow thickly. This is not going to be an easy conversation. Who wants to be asked: ‘Would you mind if I keep seeing this other guy for a bit? Just in case he’s actually the one and you’re not?’