‘Hey. Hello. What are you up to?’ Basil was standing in front of me on the street. How was he everywhere I was all the time? I looked up at him, trying to focus, trying to see. ‘So what are you doing now –’ started Basil, but I held up my hand as another ping came through on my phone.

I agonised about sending that, by the way. I’ve had it sitting there for a day. I just wanted you to know that.

‘Your boyfriend?’ said Basil.

I didn’t answer. Typing dots were there on the screen – Nassim had more to say. I stared at the phone.

‘I’ll just wait a minute, shall I?’ said Basil, and began turning circles on his heel while he waited for me to look up again. But I kept watching my phone as Nassim’s typing signal kept coming up and then vanishing. More typing signal, then nothing. He was undecided, obviously, struggling with what to say. When I finally looked up, Basil said, ‘So what are you up to now? I’ve got nothing doing. We could hang out.’

‘I can’t Basil, I –’ My phone pinged again.

So do you want to know what I think? Nassim had written, and underneath, again, the typing signal came up and disappeared and came up and disappeared.

Basil said, ‘Because I know a cool spot we could go.’

‘Basil, I’m with Grandma, so I’ve got to –’

My message app sounded and I looked down.

Here’s what I think, Anna. I think you’re trying to break up with me.

‘Fuck.’ My hand flew to my head. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

‘What?’ said Basil. ‘What is it?’

‘Fuck,’ I said. And another message came through from Nassim.

I think you’re trying to break up with me and you don’t know how to do it, and it’s all because of your mum and how weird everything is now. There. I’ve said it. I hope that makes it easier.

‘What’s he saying?’ said Basil.

‘Shut the fuck up, Basil!’ I held my hand up. ‘Just shut up.’ Another ping.

So feel free to take this as our break-up if you like. I don’t want to break up. I guess you know that. I still want to be with you. But you’ve blown me off a few times now and not spoken to me for days, so now it seems kind of obvious that that’s what’s going on, and I can only go so long feeling like a dickhead. Any longer and I’m just going to become more annoying and feel like more of a dickhead, so I think I have to call it now for my own sake. So, please, let me know if I’ve got it wrong, but I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not holding my breath, and I’m prepared to take your silence now as a sayonara.

I sat down on the bench, the same bench as yesterday. I felt sick. I’d made him do all the work. I was horrible. I was a horrible, horrible person. Everything in me wanted to reassure him, to make him feel better, but I couldn’t. Reassurance would be lies. More lies. It would undo everything. Send me backwards. Send me off the rails again. I couldn’t reassure him because he was right. And he was so good that he’d made it easy. I hated myself for it. But he’d done everything for me. And this could be it. I could just not respond, and that would be it. Done. Off the hook. I was off the hook. It felt awful.