‘Yeah, not a great night’s sleep.’ Louisa slid onto the stool at the breakfast bar and held her head in her cupped hands. ‘But I’m not complaining about being cooked breakfast. This is a first. Have I missed our anniversary?’

‘Cheeky.’ Brian dangled the bacon up and away from the grill, fat globules dripping on the floor. Louisa closed her eyes, fearing words of criticism would fall out of her mouth if she continued to watch him. He was at least making an effort, which was more than she could say about herself. When she opened them again, Brian was directly in front of her, a solemn look on his face.

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing.’ He placed the sandwich on the breakfast bar and turned back to the grill to get his own.

Louisa rubbed her hands over her face. Did she look terrible? Is that why he’d stared at her in that way?

‘Do you have something you want to tell me, Brian?’ It came to her, like a lightning strike. This moment, him making her breakfast, meant he was trying to make up for something. He had a guilty conscience – and that’s why when he looked her in the eye his expression had altered, become serious. He couldn’t hide it from her.

Oh God, what have you done?

Louisa’s heart drummed against her ribs as Brian turned back to her and sighed.

‘I’m really sorry.’ His eyes slid away from hers.

This was it. What she had been dreading. Her paranoid thoughts about him and Tiff were not paranoid at all. They were founded.

‘Is this about being with Tiff?’ The words shook, her anxiety exposed.

‘I have been spending some time with her, yes. Not in, you know, that way. She’s just, well – different to you … She hasn’t got any other things to worry about, so she can listen to me.’

The urge to butt in, to counter his words immediately, burned in her throat. But she held her tongue because there was little point in denying what he was saying. Yet. She had to allow him to continue, explain himself without her interrupting him. Let him get it all out before she prematurely exploded with anger. She raised her eyebrows: a sign for him to continue.

‘She’s been so supportive, you know that. I – we, couldn’t have got through without her over the past few months. Don’t you agree?’

Louisa, her lips tightly pursed, nodded slowly. She couldn’t trust herself to open her mouth without spilling venomous comments. Brian’s head dipped as he paced the small area between the kitchen sink and oven – one hand to his mouth, biting his thumb.

She stared at him. Waiting for the next instalment. This tactic was making him sweat, small beads of moisture appearing on his brow and nose. He pushed his glasses back up and chanced a glance in her direction.