‘You were concerned, weren’t you, when you saw me sitting there?’

He kneads his forehead. ‘Of course I was. You were damn near unconscious. I thought you were…’ He falters, clearly unable to voice his fear – that he might have had to explain away how his actions killed me. And he has, on the inside; he’s killed me stone dead. ‘Karla, please… I’m begging you, don’t do this now.’

‘Begging?’ I laugh, disbelieving. ‘Would that have worked for me, do you think? If I’d begged you, would you have stopped?’

Jason says nothing. He sighs heavily instead, which only riles me further.

‘I wonder how concerned my husband would have been on finding me semi-conscious if he’d known how I came to be in that state?’ I push on. I can’t help myself. My heart is fracturing, a thousand sharp shards of glass slicing painfully into me, because I know. I know that even if I did fall to my knees – right here, right now – he wouldn’t stop. Emotionally, he has left me, and I can’t bear it. I can’t. ‘I’ll tell you how, shall I?’

Jason attempts to walk past me. I sidestep, blocking him. ‘I was out dancing, Jason. You know that thing I used to do, when I had fun in my life? Dancing and drinking – with my very own dating site “hook-up”, as it happens. As a prelude to having sex with him!’

‘Jesus.’ Jason looks heavenwards.

There’s no one up there! I cry inside. I know this, too. I prayed so many times when Sarah died. When I realised my husband’s love for me was dying, I prayed like I’ve never prayed before. No one heard me.

‘Would you have been worried, Jason, if you’d known that about your wife, the woman you think you know so well? Someone who’s just a boring mother, clearly a boring lover, too tired and worried to be adventurous in bed?’

Jason doesn’t answer. One arm across his chest, his forehead resting now on his hand, his gaze is fixed to the floor.

‘Someone who works to pay the bills, who can’t afford to take risks, do something different with her life before it’s too late! The mother of your children, Jason! The woman who gave up her dreams to be with you, and who you think you can casually cast aside for some slut you imagine will spice up your life and shore up your flagging self-esteem!’

I flail an arm out, stopping Jason as he tries again to walk around me. ‘Why was it flagging? Answer me that.’

Jason says nothing.

‘Because you failed,’ I answer for him, cruelly, almost wanting to goad him. I want him to shout back, to fight, to scream. I want him to fight for me.