‘But he seemed so nice.’

Mark raised an eyebrow. ‘If you weren’t so naïve, maybe you’d see people for who they are. Look what happened with Jane.’

Ouch. That nerve was still raw. ‘What do you say we head home?’

Nicky was relieved. She wasn’t sure how much more of this party she could take.

The next day, in the early light of morning, Nicky woke and got ready for the day. Today she was determined to attack the writer’s block that had been plaguing her. But first she needed to tidy the kitchen. Twice. Then she rearranged the pantry and went to put the washing on. The apartment was never so spotless as when she was struggling to write.

Just after ten, with no new words written, but lots of ‘essential’ research done on the net, Nicky started making Mark’s breakfast. The smell of bacon would rouse him for sure.

He padded into the kitchen, already dressed.

‘Sorry, Nicky. I’ve got to go catch up on some paperwork in the office.’ He kissed her on the forehead.

‘Wait … I —’

But he was out the door before she could get her words out.

Nicky sat at the dining table looking about the perfectly clean apartment. Ever since she’d given up her job at the café, Saturday mornings were always reserved for a slow breakfast and not getting dressed till lunchtime. She would get a couple of hours writing done, would make Mark breakfast and then they’d while away the day together.

She fiddled with the placemats in the middle of the table. She rearranged the cushions on the couch.

She checked her phone. A week and no response from Jane.

Well, she guessed she had her answer then. Jane wanted nothing more to do with her. Her heart felt heavy.

The only family Nicky had left now was Mark.

The clock ticked loudly on the wall.

Nine

Memory was a funny thing. Sometimes it hit you when you least expected it to. Sometimes it came when you were perfectly prepared. Sometimes it came in fleeting snapshots, a face here, a feeling there, never quite revealing the complete picture. Sometimes the whole sorry saga played out in your mind and nothing you could do could stop it.

Sometimes Nicole just wished she could forget.

No one was due to come and help her today, and for that she was thankful. Mostly. How was it that she could want so desperately to be alone, yet at the same time fear loneliness?

If only there was a way to be alone, without actually being alone.

Perhaps there was.

She prepared a thermos of hot chocolate. It was a risk, she knew. But she weighed it up and decided it was worth taking.