She had pressed him up against the wall and begun to kiss him urgently. He responded as he always did, almost giving way at his knees with the effect she had on him. He ran his hands down her sides and felt her smooth legs where the short dress stopped as she ground her hips against his.

But then, with a sexy little giggle, she had leaned up and whispered into his ear, her breath hot against his skin.

For a moment, he couldn’t process what he had heard. She was smiling at him, then going in for another kiss, but no, her words had been clear.

‘I wish I could keep you as my sex slave, even when I meet someone proper.’

The effect of her words was like someone had driven a blade up between his ribs. It was an actual impact.

He had pushed her away, registering the slightly amused shock on her face. He had almost stumbled through the thickening bodies in the living room and hall and he could hear her calling him from behind, but he didn’t turn.

She had run to catch up with him outside, rubbing her arms because she had left her jacket behind, and he marched ahead, ignoring her entreaties that she was ‘only kidding’ and couldn’t he ‘take a fucking joke?’

‘I’ll wait for you to get on the train then I’m going home,’ he’d said.

When they reached the station, she had finally lapsed into silence and he could almost feel the sulky weight of her mood pressing against him.

The truth was he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. All his energy was taken up with literally moving one foot in front of the other. He hadn’t experienced this sort of pain before. There was all that bullshit about the heart and love, but it was more like someone had reached inside him and yanked out all his tender inner organs. His chest actually hurt and he felt brittle, like he might shatter.

The worst thing was that he had always suspected she felt that way but he had – like the fucking idiot he was – allowed himself to imagine they really might have some sort of a future.

They were alone at the station, with fifteen minutes before the next train. The waiting room was closed and Liam sat against the railing that ran along the outside. Anastasia sat near him and he could actually hear her shivering, but he didn’t want to touch her. But he couldn’t bring himself to go, either.

He was pretending to himself that it was some sort of chivalrous thing, waiting with her at this quiet station, but now there was someone else, a middle-aged black woman, her round body packed into a sturdy coat, on the platform too.

She glanced at them and stood a little further down.