Good stuff, but how exactly? Sit down and talk to them, said one article. I pictured myself sitting with Grace having a civilized discussion over some nibbles about why I no longer wanted her in my life – and snorted out loud. Seriously? She was such a skilled manipulator; she would tie me in knots and throw my words back at me like a razor-sharp boomerang. I knew she would.

Write an email. No. Slowly make yourself less and less available – aka ghost her. But she was living in my house… cut ties abruptly, once and for all, and be prepared for retaliation.

Forty-Six

I poked my head into the living room. Rohan was on the sofa, the remote in his hand as he flicked channels.

‘Do you fancy giving date night another try?’ I asked, giving him a smile.

He looked back at me, assessing my mood, I suppose, then his face softened. ‘Come here,’ he said, patting the sofa next to me. He opened out his arm so I could snuggle up next to him, breathing in all the smells I associated with everything good about my husband: the scent of his deodorant, of his aftershave, his skin, our laundry detergent. The scent of home. I wasn’t going to let Grace take this away from me.

‘I’m really sorry,’ I said to his armpit. ‘Again.’

He let the silence stretch, long enough for me to feel a jolt of doubt – maybe he wouldn’t forgive me? – then he said, ‘It’s okay,’ and gave me a squeeze. ‘But I’m worried about you, Abs. When I said you’d lost weight I didn’t mean in a good way.’

‘Oh, here we go,’ I said, stiffening. ‘You and your mum…’

Rohan stroked my hand. ‘Don’t be defensive. I love you. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You look so hollow; so fragile.’ He paused. ‘What does Grace say? She’s a doctor, right?’

I shrugged. ‘She hasn’t said anything.’

‘She must notice how thin you are.’

‘Not that she’s said. But,’ and I squeezed Rohan’s hand, ‘if you think I look thin, you know the answer to that: take me out and feed me.’

‘So… date night? Again?’ Rohan said with a small smile. ‘Really? I thought you hated it. I thought Grace said it was “middle-aged” and “parochial”? I thought she would “die laughing” if she knew we went on date nights? Hmm?’ He pressed his lips together trying not to laugh.

‘Yeah… but…’

‘How about we just “go out for dinner”?’ he said. ‘If you’re in the mood for it. Because if you’re not, we can get a takeaway and “Netflix ’n’ Chill”.’ He licked his lips lasciviously and it made me laugh.

‘Okay, dinner out it is,’ I said.