‘You could,’ she said, more to her reflection than to me. ‘I can’t.’

Lina turned, the dress following a fraction too slowly, and stepped back onto the magical ottoman.

‘So when do I get to meet this fabulous doctor?’

‘Soon,’ I said, the thought making me shiver. I wanted her to meet him, but first I had to tell him that there were no Tuesday dinners, or I had to leave it long enough that it wouldn’t matter anymore. Maybe until November. ‘He’s coming to the wedding.’

I didn’t mention the rest. Couldn’t. Still, something flashed across her face. ‘He is?’

I frowned. ‘I’m assuming I get a plus one?’

‘Of course,’ but she sounded wary. ‘If you want one.’

‘Well, I do.’

She hesitated. ‘Cait.’

‘Yeah?’

She looked at me for a minute, then shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘No.’ I sat forward. ‘Tell me.’

‘I just—’

The door swung open and Marla came back in with a handful of tape strips. She climbed onto her stool by the ottoman and started working at Lina’s chest.

‘What?’

‘Just … ow.’

‘Sorry, love.’

‘You’ve only been seeing him a week.’

I blinked. Ten fifty. ‘Higher on the right,’ I said. Marla glanced at me, pulled at the dress. ‘No, her right.’

Lina grimaced, lifted her arms.

‘I’ve known him for a lot longer. Months.’

‘I know, but …’ She exhaled, with her whole body, and her boobs sank into the dress.

‘I’ll get the shoes.’ Marla stepped off the stool and walked out of the room again.

‘You’re just moving really fast,’ Lina said, stepping down and sitting on the ottoman. The dress imploded around her.

‘Am I?’

I was. Even I knew that. I spent every single night at his apartment and he messaged me on every single break.

She paused. ‘Does he know?’

‘About what?’ I asked.

‘Cait.’

‘You need jewellery,’ I said suddenly, trying to change the subject. ‘Something up around—’

‘Caitlin.’

I straightened. ‘Maybe a cuff? They can look sort of weird but if you—’

‘Stop.’ She closed her eyes, took a breath. ‘I’m worried about you.’

‘Leen.’ I looked away. ‘You don’t have to worry. I’m fine.’

‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’

I shook my head. ‘Tom’s not going to hurt me.’

‘Neither was Dex.’

She said it kindly, almost too softly, but it felt like a slap, and I stared at her for a long time, then sat back, checking the time again. Eleven. I had to go soon.

‘Tom isn’t anything like Dex,’ I said, my voice echoing in my head.

‘No, Cait.’ She stood up. ‘You. You’re the same. I just want you to be careful, Caitie.’

Careful. The word stung.

‘There we go,’ Marla said, pushing the door open and holding a pair of four-inch heels. ‘Not the real ones, obviously, but they’ll give you an idea.’