We were discussing where to go for dinner when it started to rain and we decided to stay put and order food there. The barman explained they didn’t serve dinner, just bar snacks, then brought us an array of delicious tapas: little cubes of Emmentaler cheese sprinkled with celery salt, polenta cakes garnished with cherry tomatoes and pomegranate seeds, and bruschetta with black olives and roasted red peppers. I was nervous about that; I always found it difficult to eat in front of other people after Tom made a sarcastic comment about the way I ate when we were first together, so I made sure I was really careful. We sat in the window of the hotel with our wine and tapas, looking out at the bustling street and talking about our memories of how we first met. It was one of those moments in my life that was just perfect. And yes, I had to go up to my room half an hour before Harry did, so that I could call Tom and tell him I was okay. He didn’t answer, of course. He didn’t answer his phone all weekend and I knew he was annoyed with me for going. I was annoyed, too, as I knew if I hadn’t answered my phone when he called he’d have been furious, but when I got home he actually apologized and told me he’d been out with work friends and hadn’t heard it ring. It was such an unexpected reprieve, I felt light with relief.

•   •   •

It was on Saturday night that Harry first suggested we should live together.

We’d had to go to the conference that morning so that he could do his presentation. As usual, everyone was wowed by him. I felt so proud of him as he talked, engaging everyone, making them laugh. He had so many people come up to him afterward, pressing business cards into his hand, asking to set up meetings with him. The day was a success and he was on a high as a result.

But the reason he’d done so well, he told me, was because of me. I still feel a full-body blush at the thought of the night before. It was the first time we’d had so much time together. Complete privacy. He was so gentle, so lovely. The way he held me, kissed me: I knew that he had feelings for me, that it wasn’t just sex. After he slept I lay snuggled up alongside him and felt so sad and low at the thought of going back to Tom, of seeing Harry go home to Emma. I knew that I wanted to leave Tom. I think I’d known for years, but I hadn’t felt able to, had thought I wouldn’t cope alone.