‘I feel like you are. We hardly touch at all.’

‘I’m sorry. This pain is constant and annoying. I’m worried I’ll damage it again or something. I can’t—’

‘I’m not talking about sex, Adrian. I mean you don’t touch me at all. You only kiss me if I kiss you first. You haven’t touched my hand or my shoulder or anything. I feel like there’s some invisible barrier between us or something. I don’t feel welcome here, either. It’s like you don’t want to be anywhere near me. You seem so far away.’

Adrian reached across the table and took her hands. He was tender and tentative.

‘I’m sorry. I’m feeling much better than I was,’ he said. ‘I’ll try not to be so moody.’

‘Be moody if you need to be, Adrian, just don’t shut me out. One of the brilliant things about you and me is how honest I can be with you. You can’t know how difficult that is for me. I don’t want to not trust you anymore.’

‘Noted. In that case, if you want honesty, can we stay in tonight, please? We could watch a movie here.’

‘OK.’ She smiled.

‘Will you stay the night?’

‘If you want me to.’

‘I would like that. I like this place better when you’re in it. I do want you around. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.’ Adrian smiled again and squeezed her hand.

Was he just saying what she wanted to hear? If he was it was working. She felt the uneasiness disappearing. He seemed more like himself.

Imogen watched Adrian push the food she had brought with her around the plate, trying to make it look like he had eaten more than he had. When he got up and took their plates to the sink, Imogen noticed the waist on his trousers was loose. She couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t eating but didn’t want to risk an argument by mentioning it again.

They settled in on the sofa and chose a film to watch. He pulled her close and she leaned on his shoulder as they held hands. After a while she noticed he had fallen asleep and so she got up. The film wasn’t particularly good and she was restless. She saw his phone on the table next to the sofa. You can’t.

Staring at Adrian, she slowly reached for his mobile and picked it up. She knew the pattern he used to swipe across the front in order to unlock it; she had seen him do it a million times. He had made no effort to keep it a secret from her. If he caught her now, he probably would.