‘Like who?’ Adam had asked. ‘Nell and Josh live minutes away and so do your family. And my mum and dad…’ He didn’t have to finish. I knew it was a source of sadness they didn’t know him properly as an adult, that they weren’t around to see the man he had grown into. No matter how old we are, I think that ultimately we all crave the love and approval of our parents, don’t we?

‘I suppose you want to turn it into some sort of man cave?’ I had lightened the mood. ‘A games console and a mini fridge stocked with beer.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Adam had slipped his arms around my waist and muzzled the back of my neck. ‘You can’t fit many cans in a mini fridge; I need a full-sized one, and a pool table, and a Pac Man and—’

‘Umm, you have seen the size of the room.’ I had spun around and gestured with my hand. ‘But then you do overestimate the size of things.’ I backed away with a smile. Mock outrage crossed his face.

‘I would tell you what’s enormous.’ Adam had sprung forward, tickling my ribs until my knees buckled and we were both lying on the rough, hessian carpet. ‘But you’d never believe me.’

‘What,’ I had laughed. ‘What’s so enormous?’

‘My love for you.’ He was suddenly serious, holding me with his eyes.

‘Adam, I…’ I didn’t know what to say. I had never felt so happy. So content. So complete.

‘And you know what would fit perfectly in this room?’

I shook my head, maintaining eye contact.

‘A cot.’ He had dipped his head, his lips feathering over mine. ‘This will be a nursery.’ His hands undoing the button on my jeans, his jeans. In that moment we had no doubt that our lives would be exactly what we wanted them to be: long and happy. Together.

Now, I wipe my eyes. There has been too much time for sadness. I conjure another image, determined that all my tears today will be happy ones. I wander into our bedroom. There’s a dark rectangle on the carpet, where our bed – now dismantled and in the removal van – used to rest. The memory of our first night here brings a smile. We had bought a double air mattress while we saved for the wrought-iron bedstead I’d coveted.

‘Be careful it doesn’t burst,’ I had said as Adam’s foot furiously worked the foot pump to inflate the air bed.

‘It’s nowhere near full.’ Adam’s T-shirt had been damp under the arms.

‘I didn’t mean the mattress might burst. I meant your head. Your face is bright red! For someone who plays football—’

‘I’ll have you know I’m in the best shape of my life,’ Adam had said breathlessly, taking a break. ‘All muscle.’ He patted his stomach.