Perhaps she was. The idea filled Joanna simultaneously with excitement and dread. The last thing she wanted was to lose Amy. The next to last thing she wanted was a wedding. But she’d said it now. And perhaps, if she proposed, it would make her stay. “Yes? Yes. I am. Will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Marry me?” Even to Joanna it sounded unconvincing. And terrifying.

Amy sighed and pushed her away, not unkindly. She gazed into Jo’s eyes and smiled with half of her mouth, the way she did when she was sad. “You’ll be relieved to hear that the answer’s no, Joanna. I don’t want this life for me. And you don’t either.”

Jo could feel her slipping away. “I can change things at work if it matters that much. I can move departments—”

“No. You won’t be happy doing that.”

“You breaking up with me isn’t exactly going to make me happy either.”

Amy searched Jo’s eyes. A tear slipped from her cheek and fell into the darkness. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Jo watched as Amy walked to the car without looking back. She made no move to stop Amy from getting into her car and driving away. The hard truth was, Amy was right. It had been better before they moved in together, before Amy had started trying to change the way Jo lived. They’d been playing house, but it wasn’t a game either of them liked. Jo knew it wasn’t just the work too: the training was another source of friction. There was a timetable on the wall in the kitchen that clearly set out the hours of cycling, swimming, and running Joanna needed to do to keep competition-fit, yet Amy had always seemed surprised and annoyed by Jo’s dedication to it. Triathlon was a passion for Joanna, but also a lifeline. It allowed her to process the more stressful parts of the job. It got the anger out, and the frustration. Without it, she would have come undone, and she wouldn’t have given it up for anything.