‘I will give you a few minutes alone.’ Dr Salessi discreetly moves away and disappears behind the curtain out of sight.

‘Dom?’ I whisper. ‘Is this really happening?’

He leaps up from his seat and envelops me in his big strong arms. ‘It is. I’m so sorry. I really am.’

A lump of emotion forms in my throat; it’s so intense that it hurts trying to hold it at bay. ‘What did I do wrong, Dom? What? Tell me.’

He pulls me closer. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong, Lex. Don’t ever, ever think that. Life is just so damn cruel sometimes.’

‘But I just… I can’t even…’

I cling to him as I try to process this information. I’m ill. Really ill. And the only way is downhill. I’m going to lose my physical abilities, my independence, perhaps even my confidence and self-esteem as my body breaks down bit by bit. What does this mean for my career, my future? Our future. Normally when I have a problem, I solve it. Or Dom helps me solve it. We’re the ultimate pragmatists, perfectly matched in every way.

Except that’s just changed. Because I’m not going to be able to keep up. And I don’t want to hold Dom back. I don’t want him to have to become… my carer. I can’t bear the thought of being a burden on him. Will he even want to marry me now? Why would he? We can’t have the future we were so looking forward to together. I’m broken and no one can fix me.

This uncharacteristic whirlwind of thoughts becomes too much for me and I finally break down in tears: huge, heartbreaking sobs, causing Dom to pull me in tighter.

‘It’s OK, kitten. Just cry.’ He soothes me. ‘We’ll get through this together. It doesn’t change anything. It’s you and me against it all, I promise.’

As I listen to his words, it has the opposite effect of what he intended. I don’t feel safe or secure. I feel vulnerable and exposed. Because as much as he says that this doesn’t change a thing, it already has. The balance in our relationship has shifted for ever. The only question that remains is – will it survive?

Chapter 6

‘You OK?’ Dom slams the driver’s door of our double-parked BMW 3 Series and canters round to the passenger side to help me out of the car.

‘I’m fine.’ I pull my hand away from his. ‘I can manage.’

I haul myself out of the car, trying to hide how much this simple action is taking out of me. My muscles feel like dead weights and I’m panting heavily; way too much for what should be very light exertion.

Dom hovers in front of me looking helpless. I can see how much he wants to step in and help. ‘I’ll need to park the car properly. Will you be OK getting up the stairs?’

‘Yes. Go.’ I usher him away, relieved he won’t be around to witness my sorry ascent to our third-floor tenement apartment.