‘I know!’ he said. ‘I had to give myself a talking-to not to come and help with the boxes. I didn’t think you’d want me there.’

‘I wanted you there,’ I said. ‘Please forgive me. It’s you and me!’ I waited for him to say something, to explain the boxes, knowing that if I spoke again we’d go off on another tangent and end up discussing the weather, or the conflict in Syria, or sandwich fillings.

‘I think I knew pretty quickly that this was different,’ he said, gesturing between us. ‘That’s why I didn’t want us to sleep together right away – I just … oh God, this is going to sound so preposterous, but … I don’t know. I worried it might be my last ever first time with somebody. And the last person I felt like that about …’ Tears welled up in his eyes. ‘She died. And it was the worst thing I have ever, ever gone through. I used to wish I had died instead of her, but then I wouldn’t wish the pain of losing someone on anyone.’

‘I can’t even imagine how hard it was,’ I said. And then, after a beat: ‘I thought you didn’t want to sleep with me right away because I was your first since you became a widower.’

Patrick shook his head. ‘I have been with a ton of women these past few years.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Well. Good for you! That’s nice.’

‘I’m not showing off. It was always temporary and fleeting and a bit like putting a plaster on a gaping bullet wound. And then you and I got talking, and I flew to the other side of the bloody world with you …’

‘Yeah,’ I said, laughing.

‘And I felt things. I knew I still missed Mala from the bottom of my heart, but being with you made it seem as if there was something to be hopeful for. I knew if we slept together it wouldn’t be like the others. And I didn’t know if I was just going to be a rebound for you …’

‘I guess I thought you might be,’ I admitted. ‘I don’t know.’

Now it was his turn to laugh. ‘I never invited you here because I still had all our things exactly as they were when she was alive. Everyone said I needed to take some of the pictures down, and empty her side of the wardrobe, but I didn’t want to. That’s what the packing tape and boxes are for. That’s what I’ve been doing since I visited my brother. He told me it was time, and this time I listened. I needed him to help me find the courage to move on, because …’

I clutched at his hands, the hands of this tender, kind, insightful, bruised, hopeful man.