He swivels on the spot, undoing the buttons of his suit jacket slowly, his eyes on me. One shoulder free, then the other, then the jacket is removed. The tie is pulled free in one practised move – but I’m with him before he gets to the top button of his shirt, taking over the undressing, longing for his body to be as naked as my own. Hoping for this to feel exciting and full of surprises, desperate for it to erase the doubt that’s been lingering. Wanting to crush its power and anchor me where I’m meant to be – because surely this is exactly what Liam has tried to do this morning – remind me.

It seems both of us are clinging on, trying to pull me back. I run my fingers through his hair and tug at it. I don’t want this to be nice. I need to feel the passion and know this can make me feel alive. I need to want him.

*

When I was single it seemed that everything on 14 February was geared towards making me feel pathetically alone. Today, I don’t feel that. I don’t feel that crushing ache of longing to have someone else validate my existence, but I’m aware there is something tingling away at my emotions. I thought a life-partner would leave me feeling completely fulfilled, but this year the lonely hearts day has turned my thoughts to the things I might be giving up.

Earlier was good. It was the best sex Liam and I have had in ages and made me realize an oxytocin hit was hugely needed. I definitely still fancy him and am so grateful that he knows what he’s doing in the bedroom and I’m not having to retell a guy what I like, or go along with it out of politeness (I never did – I always gently nudged them in the right direction and if they weren’t interested in getting that right then I wasn’t willing to compromise). Those are the major perks of being with someone I totally know and love – and who gets how my body works. So what is it that’s causing me to doubt what I have, or make me wonder if a happily ever after is actually what I want?