‘You mean you might not do it?’

‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ he said.

‘Gotcha,’ I said.

I sat there on the bed. He grabbed a pair of silver Cons and rifled through his jewellery drawers.

He whipped around and pointed. ‘What are you really thinking?’ he demanded.

‘Dan, you can’t ask that.’ This was one of the worst things you could ever ask anybody, especially when combined with whipping around and catching them out, because nobody was ever thinking something they were meant to. ‘I’m going to close my eyes for a while.’

‘Um, okay,’ he said.

I could hear him breathing, and then I could smell his breath.

‘Thank you for being so good about this,’ he said.

I nodded.

‘It was only a matter of time,’ he said.

I shook my head. He sighed.

‘Could you open your eyes?’ he said.

I blurted, ‘We just live really well together.’

‘Because we give each other lots of space and respect each other’s choices.’

I opened my eyes. ‘Yes!’ I said. Finally, he got it.

‘And I invite you to follow that to its natural conclusion.’

I gasped. He laughed. I shook my head and squeezed both of my kneecaps. I bit my lip and vibrated and gripped my bones and sniffed. I had to think of something to say, and finally I said it:

‘There are no natural conclusions,’ I said. ‘There is no such thing.’

He threw out his hands. ‘And I’m moving out anyway. So that is where we’re at.’

I groaned and lay back on the bed.

‘You’ll be fine,’ he said.

‘Tell yourself whatever you want. Nothing that troubles the conscience.’

‘Ugh,’ he said, and left.

I knew I was in Dan’s bed when I woke up; the linen sheets, the sense of safety; no strange smells, just comfort. I could feel my foot was healing. I knew Dan was moving out, and felt this loss and terror. I knew as I woke up more I’d feel it more acutely, but for now, in these softest sheets, I could look at it front on, maybe even live with it, the tearing of the flesh.

I stretched my back, had all my limbs. I rolled over to check my phone. It was two a.m., the first of January and, like in a dream, the phone started vibrating the second I took hold of it. I startled and I dropped it. When I picked it up again, I saw I’d missed three calls, again from an unsaved number, so it wasn’t that mysterious; I’d been woken by the calls.

They rang again immediately.

I answered.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Hiiii,’ the voice said. Public noises in the background.

‘Happy new year, Chris L,’ I said.

‘I drove back by myself. Can you come and see me?’

I touched my cheeks, awake and there. ‘Chris L, it’s after two.’