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We’d kissed, laughed, held hands for hours, wandering Edinburgh like idiots with nowhere to be. I felt lighter than I had in years.

And yet now, sitting in the car, my lips still tingling from kissing Jamie all night, my stomach flipped like I’d swallowed a live wire. What the hell was I doing? I was meant to be the perfect wife, even if my not-so-perfect husband was off shagging his side piece in a hotel suite paid for by brand partnerships that I’d earned off the back of feel-good content about our marriage.

I stared out the window, listening to his indicator tick as he got back on the motorway.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

My whole body tensed. ‘Yeah.’ I nodded, still watching the fogged-up glass like it might save me.

‘Thinking about how much you fancy me?’ he went on.

I whipped my head round. He was smirking. Of course he was. ‘You fancy me more, actually,’ I shot back, realising how childish we sounded.

His hand slid onto my thigh, so casually. So confident. ‘I absolutely do, aye.’

Jesus. There were the drums again. Was I that desperate for an orgasm? Either way, every nerve ending in that region was on high alert.

I laughed. ‘Good.’

‘So the soup kitchen will be fun tomorrow,’ he said, giving my thigh a squeeze. I could feel the roughness of his hand, and it was weirdly turning me on. I’d spent years with a man who moisturised his hands more than he touched me, and even then, he didn’t do that in a way that I’d call right.

‘What?’ I said, blinking back into reality. I’d been too busy mentally awarding him gold medals in fingerblasting.

‘The soup kitchen,’ he repeated. ‘Tomorrow.’

‘Right. Yeah.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Just don’t try it on behind the bins this time.’

He grinned and lifted an eyebrow. Brilliant, Harri. Stay classy.

As we drove into the Gorbals, we were chatting easily, until he pulled up outside Mum and Dad’s just after ten. He leaned across me, peering into the dark house.

‘Everyone must be asleep,’ he said.

I smiled. ‘Aye. They’re old now. Lucky if they see nine o’clock.’

‘Well, I’ll let you head in. I had a great night, Harri.’ He brushed another stray hair back away from my face.

My breathing hitched.

‘I did too.’ I unbuckled my seatbelt, reaching for the door – then I froze. I didn’t feel ready for this to end. I didn’t know when I’d have to go back home, back to reality, and I wanted this day, this memory to be special. ‘Do you want to come in?’ I blurted. ‘I mean – you don’t have to, if you’ve got somewhere to be or . . .’

‘Somewhere to be?’ he said. ‘It’s after ten o’clock.’

I winced. ‘Right. Aye. Didn’t think that through.’

A smile tugged at his mouth. ‘I’d love to come in.’

My stomach swooped.

Then he added, ‘But only if you’re sure.’

My heart kicked into full panic mode because I knew this wasn’t just me letting him into the house after a friendly night out. This was something more.

‘I’m sure,’ I said, softer. Like I was murmuring it to myself as much as to him.

Chapter Nineteen

We crept through the gate like we were about to commit a crime – which, to be fair, we kind of were – my eyes glued to Sharon’s blinds. If that woman clocked me bringing a man home, she’d be flogging the pictures on sellusyourstory.com by morning. I unlocked the door, and together we tiptoed into my mum and dad’s, steering towards the living room.