He shrugs. This is their last supper, isn’t it? Won’t hurt to get some things said. And he did apologise, once. That was all she seemed to need. A quick sorry, and a thumb brushing over the scar. He thought it’d be enough for things to get back to normal. Time has proved him wrong.

‘Eight months since you woke up. Still in living memory.’

Luigi brings dinner. He’s never been so glad of an interruption.