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I managed to pull myself back to a standing position, staring open-mouthed at the man standing opposite me. “At the restaurant. But, that was weeks ago. That was before our first date. You’ve lied to me all this time.”

A belligerent look crossed the other man’s face. “I wasn’t the only one lying, Dean. As you well know. If you want to get down to semantics, we’re both as bad as each other.” His face suddenly softened. “Shit! Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re in shock. I’ve had longer to wrap my head around this…situation. Let’s go in. I’ll make us a hot drink, and we can discuss this like adults. Sort out what our next step is.”

He reached out again. This time I backed away out of touching distance, the nausea still bubbling away inside. How could he be so calm about this? Treat it like it was nothing? Like we could have a perfectly reasonable conversation about it. White-hot anger suddenly engulfed me. “There’s no point.”

“What?”

“Discussing it.”

“I get that you’re angry, Dean. But—”

“We’re done.” I hadn’t planned for those words to come out of my mouth. But, as soon as they did, I immediately felt better. They were the words which would take me away from this situation. It felt like a great weight had suddenly lifted from my chest.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. This is so…” I laughed, but there was very little humor in it. “Fucked up. I mean like you wouldn’t believe. There’s no next step from this. There’s just the end. There’s just me and you going our separate ways and forgetting all about this.” I took another few steps backward, noting the pained look on Justin’s face. I couldn’t bring myself to feel even the slightest bit sorry for him. “Don’t call me. Don’t come around. Just…stay away from me. I mean it, Justin.” I turned on my heel and fled, ignoring my boyfriend. No, not my boyfriend, I corrected myself quickly, my ex-boyfriend calling my name.

* * * *

It only occurred to me after I’d already knocked on the door that it might have been too late to be making unannounced visits. I checked my watch: nine o’ clock. That wasn’t too bad. The door swung open framing a confused-looking Andy. “Hey, little brother. We weren’t meant to be seeing you tonight. What can we do for you?”

“Is it a bad time?”

He waved his hands in a dismissive gesture. Whatever his response was going to be, was drowned out by the loud shout from the kitchen at the end of the hallway. I smiled at Rebecca’s insistent voice demanding to know who it was. Andy raised his eyebrows, in a “look what I have to put up with” gesture before responding, “It’s Dean.”

“Well, don’t leave him standing on the doorstep. Invite him in.”

Following his wife’s instruction, Andy waited while I stepped inside before closing the door. Once in the kitchen, Rebecca immediately wrapped me up in a firm hug. “Hey, Dean. It’s so lovely to see you. We don’t see anywhere near enough of you. You’re always working.” In my current state of fragility, it was all I could do not to burst into tears at the warm welcome from my sister-in-law. I clung on to her a touch too long while I fought to compose myself, finally pulling back to kiss her on the cheek.

“You look gorgeous as ever.”

She preened, thankfully missing her husband’s eye roll on the way to the fridge. He pulled two beers out, opening them before passing one over. I took it gratefully, taking an immediate large swig. Maybe, a shot of alcohol would help to numb the pain. Andy moved in front of me, a thoughtful look on his face. “So, what are you doing here? Have you and Georgia argued?”

It was a relief when Rebecca immediately shushed him. It waned somewhat when she immediately corrected him with a spookily accurate correction, “More like boyfriend trouble. Am I right?”

I nodded miserably. “I don’t really want to talk about it, though. It’s…complicated. I was kind of hoping…that…I might be able to stay here tonight? I mean, don’t worry, if the answer is no. It’s not a problem. I just thought—” I paused at Andy’s immediate look of confusion. He was probably trying to work out why boyfriend problems would equate to the sudden need to stay over when I never had before. I was beginning to feel like I hadn’t thought it through.

Andy opened his mouth. “Why…”

His jaw snapped shut when he was immediately elbowed, none too gently, in the ribs by his wife. I winced on his behalf. She turned to me with a sympathetic smile. “Of course, you can stay over. You’re always welcome here. Isn’t he, Andy?” Another well-placed elbow caused my brother to start nodding so enthusiastically he put me in mind of a nodding dog. It almost raised a smile. Rebecca carried on, “We don’t have a spare room though. I’m afraid it’s the sofa. But it’s pretty comfortable. Ask Andy. He falls asleep on it all the time, don’t you?”

Andy took a step away, perhaps anticipating another elbow in the ribs if he didn’t answer quickly enough or gave the wrong answer. “It’s very comfy. However, I will warn you that you’re probably going to be woken up at the crack of dawn by an overexcited Bobby. There’ll be no holding him back once he discovers his uncle Dean stayed over.”

I smiled fondly at the mention of my nephew. “To be honest, that’s really no different than living with Georgia.”

* * * *

Tucked up on the sofa, borrowed bedding piled high, “in case I got cold,” I steeled myself to switch my phone back on. It immediately flashed up with six missed calls, five predictably from Justin and one from the boss of the restaurant where I worked. I almost dropped the phone as it buzzed in my hand. I froze. Expecting the caller display to say Justin, it was a relief to see Georgia’s name flash up instead. She was probably wondering where I was. We’d made it a habit over the years to check up on each other if either of us hadn’t come home when expected. Our diligence had caused more than a few problems. I was pretty sure I’d managed to interrupt her and Benedict having sex a few times. I hadn’t been able to think of an alternative reason for her breathlessness, combined with the audible irritation of Benedict in the background. Yet, she’d still answered the phone. There was no way I could ignore her. I pressed the button to connect the call, barely getting out a greeting before she launched into a diatribe.

“Dean, I don’t know what the hell is going on. But, I’ve got your boyfriend here. And no matter how many times I tell him you’re not here, so no, he can’t talk to you, he won’t believe me. He’s been standing on the doorstep now for ten minutes. I had to promise I’d ring you and get you to talk to him. Apparently, he’s tried to call you, and you’re not picking up. I told him that maybe there’s something wrong with your phone. But, obviously, there isn’t because I’ve just managed to get through to you.” She finally stopped for a breath. “Dean?”

I took a deep breath. “What?”

“What shall I tell your boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh!” There was a long pause while she digested that piece of information. “Like that, is it?”