Coming to terms with the fact that I said goodbye to that therapist too soon, and it’s probably time to say hello again. Also, trying to decide on the line between being smart and sensible and being too scared to risk anything ever. So far, making zero progress.

She stared at those words for a few long moments before deciding they were not an appropriate thing to send an exhausted, heavily pregnant lady in the middle of the night. So she deleted them and sent something else.

Abbie: Too much mocha before bed. BTW I really love you.

Chitra: DO you? Enough to reconsider my three-way co-parenting idea?

Abbie: … Well, no. Not that much. You and Charlie are on your own.

Chitra: Worth a shot. I really love you too, by the way.

Abbie: I know. Now go to sleep.

Chitra: Fine. Night night.

If only Abbie could “night night” her way into unconsciousness as well. But with everything on her mind right now, she couldn’t. So getting up and making herself a cup of tea would have to do.

When Will had decided to move to the US, his mum had sat him down for a very serious chat. “I’ve seen what happens,” she’d said, “to ordinary boys who make lots of money and move far from home.”

Will had listened, wide-eyed, with no idea what she might say next.

“They catch sex diseases and die of cocaine,” Mum told him.

Will had bitten the inside of his cheek to prevent a smile. “Oh. Right. Yeah, don’t worry, Mum. I won’t do that.”

He’d meant it, too—not just in an I won’t have unprotected sex and do too many drugs sort of way, but in an I won’t try to be numb when I’m lonely sort of way. He’d taken that promise very seriously over the years.

Hopefully, getting wasted on Ms Tricia’s secret gin stash after the household had gone to bed didn’t count as breaking it. After all, he was back home in Britain, and he wasn’t lonely so much as devasted. Because locking his feelings away today, trying to act natural, had only made reality a thousand times worse when he finally allowed it to hit.

He raised his glass to the full moon beaming through the kitchen window. “Sorry, Mum. I tried.”

The moon glowed back disapprovingly.

He sipped his gin.

Will wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here, when this time yesterday he’d been lying in bed across the hall from Abbie, giddy with hope. Looking forward to a year of being near her, of showing her how he felt, of maybe discovering she felt the same way too. He should’ve known better. Abbie was too smart to hide things from, and too perfect to want him.