Before Lincoln had ridden away on his commandeered motorbike, he confessed he had bought me a gift for Christmas. Despite all his confidence, he seemed a little shy as he slipped a tennis bracelet on my wrist that was decorated with a sweet love heart.
For two days, Tim hadn’t texted me. I dared to think he had given up, and it was over. I wasn’t that lucky. After the first day back at work, I found him lurking there in my inbox. I viewed it with the same contempt that I would have if someone posted dog poo through my letterbox. I took my first positive step. I went into the bathroom, and had a really long shower before I read the message. It felt liberating not rushing to see what he had said. Lincoln had wondered if he even had the picture at all. How certain was I that he hadn’t delet
