The earth shifted again, just a fraction of a degree, but that was all it took. Another tsunami, water bubbling out through the drains, dissolving the ground beneath us. Liquefaction. ‘I don’t … I can’t tell you.’

‘Oh.’ He straightened, shoulders tensed, jaw locked so tight. ‘Okay then.’

‘I want to.’ I took a breath. ‘I’ve wanted to since … But I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

You’re too much.

She gets weird sometimes. It’s why my dad left.

‘I’m scared,’ I said finally.

He stared at me like I was a stranger.

‘You’re scared?’ he asked, after a long time. His voice had dropped to nearly nothing but it was so hard he may as well have shouted it. ‘You?’

There was something awful in his expression, and I couldn’t respond.

‘Cait.’ He shook his head. ‘I have been all-in here. From the beginning. Before that. Anything you wanted. Everything you wanted. I wanted you to meet my family, be a part of my life. Because I—’ Another shake. A sigh. Defeated. ‘We’ve been together for, what? Two months? And you said I was never coming to your flat and I thought you were joking.’ His voice changed. ‘But I’ve never been to your flat, have I? You don’t even let me drive you home.’

I bit my lip, looking down.

‘I don’t even know where you live.’ He exhaled.

I couldn’t answer. There was something wrong with me.

‘You told me you’ve never done this before, but then …’

A brain tumour. I had a brain tumour. God, it had to be a brain tumour. That was why I was like this. That was why I had done this. ‘I haven’t.’

Why I was still doing it. Why I couldn’t stop.

‘Come on, Cait.’ He pleaded. ‘I wasn’t just being paranoid, was I? About Dex?’

My breath caught. I just wanted it to stop. All of it.

‘I see you at work,’ he went on. ‘After work, at my place. Or the pub. You don’t talk about yourself. You joke. You tell me stories about being a kid, or who you used to be, but not …’ He looked up at the sky, at the impending missile strike that was going to take us both out. ‘As far as I know, you have exactly one friend, and when I’ve suggested meeting her, you make excuses.’

‘It’s not—’ A freak lightning bolt from a storm we hadn’t seen brewing.

‘I’ve known you for months, Caitlin.’ His voice came up again, just a fraction, another rush of anger. ‘And I have let you all the way in. And I’ve been waiting for you to do the same but you won’t. And you’re scared?’

I looked at him, not sure what to say.

‘You won’t tell me anything. You—’

‘You didn’t tell me you’d been to New York.’