He patted her shoulder. “Oops, sorry. You carry on watching.” He stood up and answered the call, clicking the play button on the remote control. “Hey, Katrina. No, it’s fine. We were only watching an old film.”

As he padded off toward the coat cupboard, Liv glared at him. She cracked her knuckles as his muffled voice sounded over the film for fifteen minutes.

When Jake returned, he plonked himself down next to her. “Give me a recap.” He nodded at the TV. “What just happened?”

Liv felt the pressure of the last two and a half months rise inside her like mercury in a greenhouse thermometer. How could he interrupt their first romantic moment in ages to take a call from his sister? During the most iconic moment of the film, too. “Bloody hell,” was all she could manage to say.

Jake’s eyes widened. “What?”

“We were watching it together. We were...you know.”

“It was only a little break.”

“Well, what couldn’t wait?” Liv demanded. “What was so important you had to interrupt things?”

“Just business,” he said. “Tricky to understand...”

She shot him a death stare.

“Tricky for anyone to understand,” he added.

“Try me.” She folded her arms. “I might have ideas, too.”

The smirk he performed was so brief, she almost missed it. She flinched and hutched away from him. “I’m forty-two, Jake, not nineteen any longer. I think you forget that.” She picked up a cushion and hugged it.

Jake set his jaw. “It’s my gut instinct to look after you,” he said.

“I don’t need protecting.”

“You did once.” He sounded rueful.

The pause that followed between them was loaded with two decades’ worth of tiny resentments that spread like spots of mold on a bathroom wall.

Liv had always thought that couples fell into one of two camps when their kids got older. Group A reverted to their pre-children days, relishing afternoon trips to the cinema together and lazy lie-ins without kids jumping on the bed.

Group B lost their individual identities and could only function as part of a family. When the children left home there were long silences that couldn’t be filled, and the hollowness of empty bedrooms.

She’d always thought she and Jake would slot into Group A. Increasingly, she wasn’t sure which way they’d swing. She wondered if they’d ever hold hands and wander around art galleries ever again.

“We’ve both been really busy, haven’t we?” Jake said wearily. “Not talking enough.”

“We have to actually be in the same room to do that.”

“I’m sorry I took the call.”

Even though he sounded truly apologetic Liv’s jaw was tense and the lump on her head throbbed.

“When things settle down, let’s do something nice,” he said.

“Like what?”