‘But—’

‘We’ve both got our own lives,’ he said, doing up the zip on his trousers. ‘It’s fine you’re with someone else now. I’d expect it. Well, maybe not quite this,’ he said scornfully as he shrugged on his shirt.

She sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to her. She felt exposed, vulnerable suddenly. ‘Nathan, you don’t understand—’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, actually.’

‘Grateful?’ She stared at him.

‘At least we got a proper goodbye at last. The one we never got to have first time around.’

‘No. This isn’t goodbye,’ she said in alarm.

But he wasn’t listening, moving fast. ‘I’ve always thought it’s funny how defining a first experience tends to be, and yet the last one is almost always lost to obscurity.’

She shook her head, unable to keep up. Why was he talking about first experiences? ‘. . . Huh?’

‘Well, you’d expect that it’s the last time something happens that has more resonance – it’s an ending; that should be more powerful really. Endings are traumatic for humans: we want life to be linear and unbroken.’

Christ, the man always had a theory. Was this really the time to get philosophical? ‘Nate, what on earth are you talking about?’

‘Take our first time together, like you just said. I never really think about it – but I could if I wanted because by virtue of being the first time it was made memorable. Our last fuck on the other hand . . . ?’

She winced at his language. Swearing had never suited him. And that word wasn’t right, anyway. They’d been in love—

‘I just can’t remember it, can you?’ He didn’t wait for a reply as he did up the buttons. ‘But that’s because the last time we slept together, we didn’t know it was the last. Or certainly, I didn’t. And that’s because at the time it was actually happening, it wasn’t defined as the “last” one because there was everything to suggest we would do it again, that there would be another fuck to come, because I thought we were happy.’ He gave a mirthless laugh, as though mocking himself.

‘Nate—’ she faltered. She felt the ground begin to drop away, the rush of blood beginning to pound in her ears, adrenaline coursing, panic setting in.

‘It was only hindsight that imbued it with the significance of being the last time, by which point, the memory was lost. There had been no ceremony for it, nothing to make it stand out at the actual time.’ He shrugged as he stuffed his feet into his shoes and stared back at her bewildered on the bed. ‘So I guess at least now we have a definitive experi ence with which to round things off. Something we can both remember and look back on with clarity and fondness.’

Fondness? ‘Nate, stop this!’ she cried, feeling herself begin to crumple, to fall apart.

But he just picked up his jacket and walked over to the door, looking back at her with an expression she couldn’t read. ‘You already did, Charlotte.’