A glance at the clock revealed the time to be just before midday, which came as no surprise since she'd checked it only ten minutes previously.

Dan would be here in half an hour.

It had been inevitable that he'd be in touch, but still, the curt text to let her know he'd be round over the weekend to collect his belongings had seemed unnecessarily abrupt.

Had he heard that she was working for Lucien again?

And what exactly did he plan to take?

Most of their belongings had been joint purchases, things they'd ummed and aahed pleasurably over together, enjoying the process of turning their house into a home. The last thing she wanted was one of those agonisingly hackneyed arguments over their CD collection.

Sophie jumped at the sound of the knock on the door. She'd wondered if he would use his key, and now she had her answer. In the hallway, she glanced at her reflection. She'd been stupidly stressed over what to wear for his visit, not wanting to appear downtrodden, but then she didn't want to look as if she'd dressed up for him either. In the end, she'd settled on jeans and her favourite T-shirt. An outfit that she hoped said 'I’m relaxed and comfortable, take me as you find me.'

She smoothed a nervous hand over her ponytail and opened the door.

"Hey Soph."

Sophie had tried to imagine how she'd feel when she came face to face with Dan again.

This was the man she'd shared her bed and her heart with for all of her adult life.

This was the man she'd promised herself to, for better, for worse.

This was the only man she'd ever loved.

And now he was here the overriding feeling that spiked through her was fury, because as his car idled at the other end of the pathway to their door, she couldn’t fail to observe that Maria was behind the wheel.

Dan caught her looking past him and had the grace to flush.

"Sorry, Soph. She insisted."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I can't think why. Are you allowed across the threshold, or shall I throw your clothes at you from the bedroom window?"

"Don't be stupid."

He shot a quick glance back towards his girlfriend and then followed Sophie down the hallway.

In the kitchen, she leaned against the work surface. "Coffee, or do you need to rush off?" However hard she tried to sound measured, the sarcastic edge won out.

He shrugged awkwardly. "I'd better not."

Sophie paused. "Right." He glanced around the kitchen, and she found she had to look away to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. His kitchen. Her kitchen. Their home… yet he already looked entirely out of place.

"I've packed your clothes for you. And some other stuff. Toiletries... books... you know... things." She shrugged, attempted nonchalance and fell a long way short of the mark. She couldn't pretend that this didn't matter, nor that the fact that he had allowed Maria to be here today had turned the screw even tighter. He should have come alone. Their marriage deserved that much respect, at least.

His eyes fell on the bags in the hallway, and his shoulders drooped a little as he nodded. He contemplated them but made no move to pick them up, and eventually he turned his gaze back to Sophie.

"How have you been?"

His quietly spoken question caught her unawares. She shrugged one shoulder and scrunched her nose up. "You know. Up and down."

He looked away, and she saw his throat work as he nodded.

"How about you?" she asked, all at sea with her emotions. The heat of her anger had dissolved into bone deep sadness, and she couldn't lift her voice to pretend otherwise.

His body language mirrored hers. "The same. Soph, I..." Dan broke off at the sound of the car horn blaring from the street. He swore under his breath, and his jaw stiffened in anger.

"You're wanted," Sophie observed tonelessly. Because there was nothing else to say.

"Looks that way," he muttered, huffing as he stalked down the hallway to gather up the bags. He turned to her just before he opened the front door, and for a second the annoyance dropped off his face and left him vulnerable and exposed.

"I miss you."

Sophie looked at him, not sure what he expected her to say. That she missed him too? She didn't say it because she wasn't sure it was true. Oh, she'd had moments of utter, raw despair, but mostly she'd been angry and resentful. She hadn't yet reached the place where it was okay to miss him without berating herself for being weak.

The horn blared again.

Dan considered her for a few seconds more, and then turned and opened the door, leaving Sophie with just the scent of another woman’s perfume to remind her that her husband had been there at all.

Later that evening, Sophie refilled two glasses of wine and took them upstairs to Kara, otherwise known as the queen of packers. They'd spent the afternoon shopping for Sophie's upcoming trip to Paris. Her plans to buy just a few essentials had gone badly awry with Kara at her side reasoning that new clothes were a necessity given her recent weight loss. She'd returned home laden with designer bags, accessorized with aching feet and a badly over-flexed credit card.

"I'm so borrowing this when you get back." Kara held Sophie's new cocktail dress against herself and turned critically to view her reflection. It wasn't a dress Sophie would usually have bought, but then it wasn't from a shop Sophie frequented, either. One of Kara's favourite designer haunts, the flamboyant owner had taken one long, assessing look at Sophie and held out the hideously expensive dress with a knowing look on his face. He'd dismissed Sophie's protests with an airy wave towards the changing room, and Sophie had accepted her fate. She'd try on the dress to prove him wrong. It was especially annoying that he’d called through a reminder that she'd need to take off her bra to do the dress justice.

Except she didn't prove him wrong. She proved him to be skilled at his job, because the instant she’d shimmied into the dress, she had fallen instantly in couture love.

Gossamer black lace over gunmetal grey silk, with tiny capped sleeves and a daring central black mesh V panel that showcased the curve of her breasts. The gown somehow managed to pull off demure and ultra sexy all at the same time. It was thoroughly grown up and sophisticated, very Parisian, and the closest Sophie had ever come to having an Audrey Hepburn moment.

Despite the heart attack price tag, she left the boutique with the killer dress wrapped and gift bagged, and a new fan in Conrad, the haughty boutique owner. Kara had clearly filled him in on Sophie's Paris trip while she'd been busy in the changing room, because he'd wafted her with perfume and bid her a theatrical 'au revoir' as he opened the door and bowed them out of the shop. The glint in his eye was more than knowing. It bordered on lascivious.