It’s him!

Justin is standing right behind you, an amused smile playing across his face. ‘Whoops,’ he says, in a light, easy voice that instantly puts your teeth on edge. ‘Don’t worry, no harm done.’

Emma almost drops her own drink. ‘Justin?’ she says, in a high-pitched, breathy voice that doesn’t sound like her at all. ‘I don’t – I really don’t want to talk to you right now!’

This, at least, you know how to handle.

‘You heard the lady,’ you practically snarl. ‘Leave. Now.’

Justin’s smile doesn’t waver for a moment. ‘Easy,’ he says good-naturedly, taking a sip of his drink. ‘You’re my replacement, I’m assuming? Nice to meet you.’

You ignore that, hands itching to remove him from the vicinity; it’s like you’ve been transported back five years ago, to your first job as a bouncer. ‘Last chance, asshole.’

‘Or what?’ Justin throws you a distinctly sceptical look. ‘You’ll fuck me up, is that it? In front of everyone?’ He gestures behind you. ‘Shall we do it on the dance floor for maximum effect? I think Emma might prefer to avoid that kind of public embarrassment.’

You glance at Emma, whose face is twisted unhappily. ‘Don’t,’ she mutters, at length. ‘He’s not worth it.’

‘Emma…’ Justin sidesteps you easily, and you’re just a second too late to get between them. ‘It really was just a stupid, drunken mistake. I know you won’t forgive me – I don’t expect you to, by the way – but I can’t let you go without saying goodbye.’

You snort loudly. Justin ignores you. And Emma…

Emma, her cheeks flaming red, is refusing to look at you.

‘Come on.’ Justin indicates the marble staircase softly with his head. ‘Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for. I swear,’ he adds, raising a hand placatingly in your direction. ‘Five minutes to say goodbye – then I’m gone. It’s not much to ask after nine months of being together.’

‘It’s more than you deserve,’ you interject, unable to hold your tongue. Justin concedes it with a shrug.

‘Probably. But I’d rather let Emma decide for herself, if it’s all the same to you.’

There’s a pause so long you can almost hear your own heart beating.

Then Emma whispers, still refusing to look at you properly, ‘five minutes. And that’s it.’

The smug grin that flashes across Justin’s face makes your fists clench hard enough to draw blood from your palms.