It felt crazy to have Daniel here in this space, and I noticed a small shake to my hand as I poured boiling water into the teapot. Adrenaline, probably. This man had held my heart for so long. What did love feel like when it died? Did it still hurt this much? What did the ache mean? I had tried so hard to separate myself emotionally from him, yet here he was and it hurt like hell. I hated that my feelings for him made me so vulnerable, but as he sat at the bench and I poured tea, I could see that he was not unscathed either. He looked as wretched as I felt. Somehow, I’d imagined him shrugging off my leaving and starting again without missing a beat.

‘So, how are you?’ he asked.

‘Work is crazy.’

Daniel grinned. Those teeth. Those dimples. The surety returning. Work was safe ground. Being ten years older than me, he had risen through the ranks and was currently cooling his heels as an inspector in the city, waiting for promotion.

‘How’s Wheels? We met at a conference a couple of years back.’

My eyes narrowed. I heard the casual edge to his voice that was there any time he mentioned another man. Daniel’s alpha personality was what drew me to him—I was strong and I needed someone as strong if a relationship had any chance. The downside was the chest-beating that came with it, like any other man could catch my eye. He never knew that the opposite was true. It was like he had spoiled me for anyone else.

I took a deep breath and strategised. A conversation about Bill Wheeler would keep us on safe ground. Maybe I could milk him for some information.

‘How did you know Wheels was up here? Did you check?’

He laughed. ‘Got me, Detective.’ He put his hands in the air.

I ignored him and reached for the biscuit tin. I was not going to make this—whatever the hell this was—any easier for him. And I was ninety-nine per cent sure we were over, so I had nothing to lose.

‘He’s a dick, actually,’ I said. ‘Talks down to women. Tried to tell me I couldn’t teach a self-defence class at the CWA in my spare time.’

‘What?’ Daniel looked concerned. ‘He can’t do that.’

‘And yet he did.’

Daniel said nothing.

‘And …’ I hesitated, not wanting to pull him back in, but not being able to resist his counsel. In the grief of our parting, I had repressed the fact that as well as being my partner, he had also been my best friend.

That part, I missed.

‘I think he interfered with a murder-suicide ten years back.’

Over hot tea and biscuits, I told Daniel the whole story. Within half an hour, we were back into the easy pattern.

‘So what are you going to do?’ he asked when I finished.