‘… Because if I didn’t,’ he continued, ‘I knew I’d risk letting the next woman I fell in love with slip through my fingers, too.’

A voice came from the doorway. ‘I told you he was in love with you!’ Freddie said. ‘I knew it! I could tell that day you came for Sunday lunch!’

Patrick let out a howl of a laugh. ‘Yup,’ he said, nodding at her, and then he turned and said to me, ‘I knew I’d fallen in love with you that day at the naked spa. I just laughed so much, and you were so hot – sorry, Freddie – and …’

‘Say it,’ I told him.

‘I love you,’ he said.

‘I love you too,’ I replied, and he leaned in to kiss me and Freddie said, ‘Ewww, okay, I’m going back in the other room now! I’m too young to see this!’

We broke apart but stayed nose to nose.

‘I am so sorry for everything you’ve been through,’ I said. ‘And I promise I will never expect you to forget Mala, okay? I love you, and I know that you will always love her, too, even if you love me.’

‘And I do love you,’ he said, pulling me back in for another kiss. ‘Did I mention that?’

‘You did,’ I said, into his mouth. ‘But I don’t mind if you want to tell me again and again and again.’

Epilogue

Early morning light cast shadows on the chalky walls of the flat. The double-height windows meant everything was so much more obviously seasonal, because there was so much more of the sky to see. It was impossible to ignore the rain when it lashed against the top-floor glass, but with the right lamps and candles and salted whipped cream with my coffee it was atmospheric and cosy. And, with the days getting longer and brighter, it was just as impossible to notice the shift in the clouds that drifted by slowly, deliberately, no rush to be anywhere and no desire to reach their destination. On mornings like this it made everything seem possible, and as I made the bed and ran a hand over the smooth linen of the sheets, arranging my throw pillows haphazardly at one end and artfully dishevelling a woven blanket at the other, I sighed contentedly at how everything I could see was by my own design. My home might have been shabbily chic and rented instead of owned, but it was a fair price and a room to call my own.

I walked into the lounge to grab the last of my coffee, my eyes lingering on the framed notebook page that took pride of place above my mantel. It said:

From this day forward, I will stop trying to be perfect.

For better, for worse, I will throw caution to the wind.

For richer, for poorer, I will say yes to every opportunity that comes my way.