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He moved in and stayed with her for a while when things were at their very worst for him.

At night he would sleep on her sofa, and she would hear him moving about, and knew that he knew she was lying awake in the next room. That he was looking at the door to her bedroom and thinking about her lying in there, more and more confused and hurt by how distant he was being, how cold. Until one night he got up, got dressed and left her flat.

‘I’m staying,’ Disa whispers, wiping the tears from her face.

‘You have to go.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I love you,’ he says. ‘You must know that …’

‘Do you really think I’d go now?’ she asks with a broad smile.

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