‘I’ve missed being home,’ he uttered quietly, leaning on the countertop opposite me. I threw two teabags into mugs and squinted at the light cast out from the fridge when I got the milk.

The noise of the boiling tap served as a way to silence any rebuttal I might give. He missed being home? The bloody nerve of him! He stayed standing even after I handed him his drink, and I had to fight the urge to wander to the sofa to get comfortable, choosing to rest against the wall by the freezer. How much could there really be to say? Surely not so much that I’d need to settle in for it. We were going to get married and then didn’t because he left. I didn’t want a big chat about it. After everything I thought I might say when I finally saw him, I suddenly cared less than I ever had. I had nothing except vague pity for the bedraggled ghost in front of me.

‘Alexander,’ I sighed. ‘Why are you here?’

He considered it. He settled on: ‘To say sorry. To fix it.’

Carol settled in at his feet, put out at lying on the cold concrete floor instead of the snuggly sofa but happy he was there. I didn’t know what to say.

Eventually I asked, ‘Why did you do it? Why did you just leave that way? You abandoned me.’

My voice wavered enough to betray my steely expression. I’d had the moment so many times in my head – rehearsed what I’d say if I ever saw him again – but it was too painful to make it some big dramatic scene. I’d deliberately left my misery behind in Australia.

‘I don’t know,’ he whispered. ‘I wanted to get a reaction from you, I think.’

‘A reaction,’ I repeated. Blood pulsed in my ears.

Alexander bit down on his bottom lip as he decided how to explain what he meant. ‘It was like being with a robot,’ he settled on. ‘You never screamed or shouted or got mad. I’m fairly certain you were faking most of your orgasms. There was no … passion. I love you, but sometimes I don’t even know you.’

‘How can you love me then?’ I volleyed back. I was legitimately curious. Had I ever really known him? Could I even call what we’d fallen into love? Or had it just been convenient?

‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘I don’t know how, or why, I love you, I just do. You’re my person, Annie. I want us to try again. Life is too hard without you.’