I forced myself to look at him, to smile. God, he was beautiful, and he looked at me like nothing was wrong, like everything was fine, like I was fine. My smile turned real.

I reached for a glass automatically. ‘Hi,’ I said, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss. I’d missed his smell. Missed his warmth. It had only been a day and a half but it felt like so much longer. ‘The usual?’

‘Of course.’

I turned and got the Glenmorangie, poured some into his glass.

‘I missed you last night.’

I bit my lip, eyeing the pour.

‘Did you get my message?’

I nodded, putting the whisky back, making sure the label faced the right way. I glanced at him and smiled, then touched the bottle again, and the one next to it, made sure they were lined up perfectly, their labels exactly right. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t hear my phone and by the time I noticed it was really late. I figured you were probably asleep.’

I poured some water into a glass, floated it on top of the whisky. Focusing. Careful. Absolutely perfect, I thought, straightening and pushing the glass towards him.

‘You could have woken me.’

I looked up. He was smiling and it made me smile. I didn’t want to admit it but I’d been nervous about seeing him, and now I could hardly remember why.

‘I know,’ I said, putting a hand out and touching his. ‘But I feel like I’m always waking you.’

‘I like it.’ His fingers tucked around mine, and he squeezed. ‘How was Lina? Everything okay?’

I nodded. ‘Fine,’ I said. I looked past him at the dining room. All under control. Quietening down. Back at my docket machine. Empty. I’d started a stock list, and I’d already cleaned the fridges. All okay. Everything was fine. I let go of his hand and began straightening up the napkins and the cutlery at the end of the bar, lining up the spare salt and pepper shakers, the pile of menus. ‘She’s just stressing about the wedding, I think.’

‘Weddings do that.’

‘I know. And she stresses about things at the best of times.’ I frowned, spotting an oily fingerprint on the top menu. I grabbed a cloth and wiped at it until it disappeared. ‘Something about the flowers and Matt’s allergies, I think.’

He laughed.

‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s all fine though, I think.’

Again, I hated how easily the lies came. He was looking at me the same way he always did, his face open and warm and happy and I wanted to be the person he thought I was. So much. I pushed down a burst of guilt, of fear, let myself look at his eyes, lose myself in them.

‘That’s good,’ he said, sipping his whisky. ‘You sounded worried, in your message.’

‘I was a bit. But everything’s fine.’