So he’d accepted the consolation prize she’d offered him. Friendship. Even though it killed him every time he saw them hold hands. Every time they kissed. Every time she looked at her new girlfriend the way she used to look at him. Actually, it wasn’t the way she used to look at him. It was better. Deeper. An extra twist of the knife. A few of his mates joked that he ought to enjoy the show any time they kissed in front of him. He only just managed to stop himself from punching them. Dickheads. They didn’t get it. He was still in love with Charlotte.

Besides, if he was completely honest, he was proud of her for working it out. As much as he desperately wished it hadn’t meant losing her, he was impressed with the strength of character she’d shown in recognising who she was, midway through her thirties. Especially as she came from a staunchly religious family who were refusing to accept her revelation. Recently she’d called him crying because she’d invited her parents out to dinner to meet Steph, her partner. Her dad had been a no-show and her mother had only turned up to let her know that they would never approve. Darren had always got along well enough with Charlotte’s parents, but he was furious with them for the way they were treating her. To let her believe they were going to join her for dinner only to show up and deliver that crushing message was the last straw as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t see how any parent could do that to their own child whom they supposedly loved. He’d have had a go at them himself if Charlotte hadn’t told him not to.

Darren raked his fingers through his hair now and picked up the call, crossing his fingers that she wasn’t going to be in tears again. She deserved happiness.

‘Char, what’s up?’ He stood up from his computer and wandered out onto his small balcony to chat to her in the late afternoon sunshine. His one-bedroom, one-bathroom flat on the lower north shore was compact and in need of some updates, but he was fond of it nonetheless. There were multiple bars and cafes within walking distance, and if he leaned out over the railing on his terrace he could just catch a glimpse of the city skyline through the purple flowers of a huge jacaranda tree.

By contrast to the last phone call, the voice that greeted him was bright and bubbly.

‘Babe! How are you?’