Adrian followed behind and went straight to the toaster, busying himself with kitchen activities. She watched him closely and realised that he wasn’t making eye contact with her deliberately. Was he feeling guilty about something? Imogen was good at reading people and she couldn’t ignore her instincts anymore – she had to get the truth out of Adrian.

‘Adrian, what’s going on?’ she asked.

‘I’m making you toast, that’s what’s going on. Almost ready.’

‘I mean with us. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Are you experiencing some kind of buyer’s remorse or something?’

‘I’ve told you before that there is nothing wrong with us. I don’t know what you want me to say. Do you want me to make something up? Will you leave me alone then?’

The toast popped up and Adrian got a plate to put it on.

‘I thought we were being honest with each other.’

‘Look, I’m tired. I don’t have the energy for this. You know where the butter is,’ he said, dumping the plate of toast on the table in front of her before leaving the room and going back upstairs.

She closed her mouth, realising that it was slightly open in shock. She had never known Adrian to behave like this before. She rushed upstairs after him, but when she reached the bedroom and opened the door, she saw that he was already back in bed and covered up.

‘What the fuck was that?’ she asked.

‘Don’t read too much into this, Imogen. I am just fucking tired.’

‘I know you are lying to me about something, Adrian. One thing about you is that you have no poker face. Have I done something wrong?’

She could feel the neediness in her voice and she hated herself for it. She hated Adrian for it.

‘No, no, of course not. Can we maybe talk about this in about four hours?’ he said dismissively.

‘I don’t know if I can actually do this for much longer, Adrian. I hope this secret is worth what it’s doing to us.’

‘Grey, you’re paranoid; there is nothing you don’t know.’

‘Grey? You’re calling me by my surname and there’s nothing wrong? Is there someone else, Adrian? That’s really the only thing I can think of.’

Adrian sat up in the bed and crossed his legs before running his hands through his hair. She could see he had the urge to grab clumps of it in frustration.

‘Imogen. It’s three o’clock in the fucking morning. I need to go back to sleep so that I can wake up for work tomorrow. I promise you that I am not sleeping with anyone else. I already told you I love you and I meant that, but if you really think I would cheat on you then you should leave.’