Chris had called Rafe in a panic. They needed to talk, he'd said. He needed to come into the office. Rafe had refused – he wasn't up to sauntering about the office as though everything was fine. It was decidedly not fine. So, Chris had asked if he was staying at the hotel, and Rafe had questioned how he knew. Thus, his friend had been forced to accept that at least part of Lucy's story was true. But he hoped it was just that; a story.

'We'll come to you then, if you won't come into the office,' Chris told him.

'Who's "we"?' Rafe asked, with incredulity.

'Myself and Lydia.' If Lydia was involved, there was obviously a problem. A proper, serious problem, and not just drama. Drama would have warranted the interference of Vicky. Lydia was reserved for genuine crises.

'Fine,' Rafe sighed. 'Room two-one-one. Just come up.' And less than half an hour later, Chris – sweaty and red in the face – and a stoic Lydia were sat on the sofa in his suite, whilst he stood leaning against the wall.

'Won't you sit down?' Chris asked, with obvious irritation.

'No,' Rafe replied, because sitting down was the very last thing he felt like doing.

'Well,' Chris frowned. How did one go about accusing their best friend and business partner of sexual assault? Should he handle this as a co-owner – from one member of staff to another – or as a friend, searching for the truth? But he was confident that he knew what the truth was already. It was just difficult to navigate, as he had a tendency to err on the side of caution and always favour the underdog, lest anyone cry "coverup!". 'Lucy Williams has made an accusation about you. A very serious accusation. At this point, it's between her, Lydia and myself, but if we can't resolve it ourselves, it will have to go to HR.'

'An accusation?' Rafe queried; a flash of ire dancing in his eyes. 'What type of accusation?'

'Of sexual assault,' Lydia told him, without inflection. He snorted.

'Bollocks.' Or perhaps, bollock.

'That may very well be, but we need an explanation. She said she was here, waiting for her date and that he didn't turn up. That she saw you in the bar, instead. Said you had a drink together?' Lydia probed, allowing Chris to panic in silence.

'That's what she told me, too; about a date. We did have a drink together. At the bar.'

'And then she said she tried to leave, but that you invited her to your room for another drink?' Lydia pressed.

'You think that I would ask her up to my room?' Rafe scoffed. 'I wouldn't even deign to offer her free alcohol, let alone invite her into my private space. Let alone touch her. Jesus Christ!'

'I know,' Chris placated, before turning a worried frown upon Lydia. He looked at her with a grimace. 'Am I allowed to say that? Is it discriminatory? Is it... inappropriate? Closing ranks?' She rolled her eyes at him.

'We both know you don't believe her. Let's not perform the charade of pretending that you do. I'm here, because I can be impartial, alright?'

'As can I!' the overweight man complained.

'I really don't care one way or the other,' Lydia interrupted, holding up her hand to silence him. 'The point is, an accusation has been made, and we need an explanation which will enable us to resolve this as quickly and quietly as possible, otherwise, it will go to HR. It will tarnish Rafe's character, the reputation of the business, and expose Lucy to undue scrutiny. That's not in anyone's interests.'

'And how can I help you to resolve things?' Rafe asked. 'Her accusations are patently untrue. If you can't see that for yourself, there's f*ck all chance of me enlightening you.'

'She says,' Lydia began, in a warning voice, 'that you invited her back here. That you had a drink, and put your hand on her leg. That you told her you and Mattie were separated, and that you kissed. She claims that the kiss was consensual, but that she backed out when she realised the position she was in; with you being her boss, and your marriage being... complicated,' Lydia said, as diplomatically as she could, for she knew Mattie was refusing to speak to him.

'She claims that when she tried to back away you pinned her to the chair and put your hand up her skirt, inside her underwear. That you placed her hand on your groin, before exposing yourself and attempting to force her to perform oral sex on you. She says that at this point, she was able to push you away and leave.'

'And you believe her?' Rafe demanded.

'It's not for me to believe or disbelieve. I'm merely asking the questions.'

'Bullshit. We've worked together for years. Very closely for the past few. You know me. You know my wife, and you think I might have done this?'

'I think it would be very out of character, but I also know you've not been yourself lately,' Lydia told him. 'Beyond that, I'm not willing to comment. I'm here as a member of senior management. I'm not here as a friend.'

'I can prove she's a liar,' Rafe sighed, 'but not until I've spoken to Mattie.'

'You're going to tell her?' Chris asked in dismay. 'Do you think that's wise?'

'Of course, I'm going to tell her!' Rafe snapped, with evident disgust. 'She's my wife. I'm not going to hide this from her!'

'Won't you explain?' Chris cajoled. 'If you can prove it's a lie, can't you just tell us so that, –'

'I can't,' Rafe said with exasperation, scrubbing at his brow. 'It's... personal. Mattie has a right to know before anyone else does, but I swear to you, I didn't, –'

'You don't need to swear to me,' Chris interrupted. 'I believe you. Completely. But I need to be able to prove it to everyone else.' Rafe looked to Lydia; to her cool, assessing eyes.

'Do you play poker?' he asked, off-handedly.

'No. It's a tedious game,' she replied, without one ounce of expression. A shame, he thought. She'd be good at it.

'I need to tell Mattie in person. I'll need to head home.'

'Why are you here?' Chris asked. 'I thought you were staying with your mum.'

'I was. I am, but I've been... I need to speak to Mattie first.' Lydia sighed.

'We'll need a response from you before the end of the day. If this is going to HR, I don't want it to look as though we've dragged our feet.'

'I'll call you both this afternoon, as soon as I've spoken to Mattie.' If she would agree to see him.

In the end, Rafe didn't give her much choice. He got the first train home – standing all the way – and let himself into their house with his key. He found her in the living room, looking through a photo album. It appeared to have been her mother's, if the age of the photos was anything to go by.

'Hello,' he said, announcing his presence.

'Hi,' she replied, turning to him in surprise. 'What are you doing here?' she asked, because he'd been very good about giving her space; about not forcing his presence on her, and yet here he was; stood in their living room with an expectant look upon his face. In the middle of the working day!

'We need to talk,' Rafe said, leaning on the back of an armchair.

'I'm not ready to –' she began, but he cut her short.

'Not about that,' he said gently. 'It's about work. Well, an accusation has been made, and I need to talk to you about it.'

'Okay...' she replied, thoroughly bewildered. 'What's been said?'

'I've been staying at The Exchange since Tuesday,' Rafe told her.

'What? I thought you were with your mum? Is that why you've not stopped by to see the boys?' She was confused. She was starting to feel something that tasted suspiciously like dread.

'We'll come to that,' Rafe assured her; his tone gentle. Which was the opposite of reassuring, coming from him! 'But I've been staying at The Exchange since Tuesday, and last night I was in the bar. I just...' He shrugged. 'It was where we first met,' he told her. 'It made me think of you. Feel... closer to you,' he admitted, with flushed cheeks. 'Anyway, that's where I was, when Lucy from work – you know the one who –' he elaborated, but Mattie chipped in with, –

'Lucy Williams, who's been making your coffee for you?' And it was said a little archly, because truth be told, she was possessive when it came to making Rafe's coffee. When it came to all things Rafe, really. Him, and all the little chores and habits she associated with him. She certainly didn't like the thought of someone else looking after him. Not unless they were male and harmless, like Generic George.

'Yes,' Rafe replied cautiously, because how did she know that Lucy had been making his coffee? And her tone of voice; he recognised that. It didn't bode well. 'Lucy Williams. She was there. Said she was waiting for someone she met through Tinder or something. She sat at the bar with me while she waited, but he didn't turn up, so I guess we... ended up having a drink together.'

'And?' And it was the heaviest, most loaded "and" he'd ever heard in his life.

'And we were talking and it was all perfectly fine. Perfectly normal,' Rafe said placatingly. Well, that was a crock of shit!

'You don't talk to people. You're not "perfectly normal" with anyone. You sitting at the bar and having a casual chat with a woman from work is anything but normal!' Mattie warned. And she supposed she did blatantly still love him, if she was so angry about him having consumed a beverage beside another woman.

'No,' Rafe agreed contritely, as he wouldn't want her to consume beverages in the company of other men, either. 'But like I said, I was thinking of you, and I know things are awful for you right now – I'm not trying to detract from that – but it's not been easy for me, either. I've been under a lot of stress, and I miss you, and...' He shrugged, his palms held out in supplication.

'And you thought, "oh, I'll chat up some skank, instead?' Mattie offered, in an attempt to finish his sentence for him. Rafe's expression hardened.

'I thought,' he said, with clenched teeth, 'that it'd be nice to have a civil conversation with someone other than my mother, pertaining to something other than work or your bereavement! I thought it'd make me feel less alone!' Well, she wasn't happy about it – she didn't like Lucy, and who was she to make Rafe's coffee? – but she supposed she couldn't ban him from talking to other people. Especially not if she was refusing to talk to him, herself.

'Fine,' she told him. 'You had a drink and a talk. Is there a point to this story?' She was being cold with him. A defence mechanism. One she rarely employed, and which was reserved for when she was really rather worried or hurt. He hated it. He did not want to tell her the next part, but he felt nothing but complete honesty would do, because he needed her to trust him, and she couldn't if he tried to hide things from her; if she found out and thought the worst.

'And we had a drink together and a talk. It was... I suppose... friendly. Admittedly, a friendlier talk than I'd usually have with someone, but not flirtatious,' he stressed. 'It was... amicable. And I suppose I did feel a bit better for it, so I asked if she wanted another drink – which in hindsight, I know I shouldn't have done. I know a drink is just a drink, but it's not for us, because we've both been cheated on before, so I know neither of us are comfortable with the other doing that sort of thing.'

'Certainly not at the very same bar where you talked me into your bed!' Mattie said, with a hurt look.

'I know, and I'm sorry. But it really was just a drink. Just conversation, so that I wasn't sat in my room on my own, thinking about things. Until,' he winced, 'it became clear that it wasn't just a drink.'

'What do you mean?' Mattie asked, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. He licked his lips.

'Just that... while we were talking, there was this moment...' He lifted his brows, obviously uncertain of what to say.

'A moment?' Mattie asked.

'Yes.'

'You and Lucy had a moment?' And he was an astute man. For the most part. He heard the danger in her voice, saw the threat in her look, and instantly recoiled.

'Not like that!' he spat.

'Like what, then? Because you had a "moment" and I've no idea what that means, if not like that!' she hissed, and truth be told, she was close to tears.

'No, darling,' Rafe insisted, moving towards her in supplication; sensing her hurt and wanting to quell it. 'No. I promise,' he soothed, as she backed away from him.

'Tell me, then!' she snapped.

'I just meant,' he said slowly, carefully, as though one wrong word could ruin everything, 'that we were talking and it seemed normal. For other people, anyway. And then I realised that she wasn't just being friendly. That she was being... I don't know that you could call it flirtatious. It was... I don't really know. I hadn't been paying attention. I hadn't really even been looking at her, but what I meant was that there was this moment where I looked at her and she looked straight back at me, and it was obvious that if I was single - if I wasn't her boss - that she'd have said or done something. That maybe she was waiting for me to say or do something. When I realised that – that she wanted something to happen between us – I told her I needed to head up to my room. She said she needed to head off, too. I thought that was it.

'But she got in the lift with me, and when I went to press the button for the ground floor – for her to leave – she stopped me by grabbing my hand and suggested that she come up to my room with me instead. Said she knew you and I weren't together and that a man needed...' He grimaced. He was not going to repeat her words. 'She put her hand on my chest as she said it; pressed herself against me, as though that's all it'd take to seduce me into betraying you. I got pissed off.'

'Pissed off?' Mattie asked, staring at him with bated breath.

'Yes!' he insisted. 'She wasn't you. I didn't want her. And I was f*cking furious that she thought I'd go there with her, when I'm married to you. That she'd have so little respect for you; that she thought I have so little respect for you! I was rude to her – deliberately hurtful to make her feel worthless – and she was almost in tears by the time the lift reached the ground floor. I didn't even care. I wasn't sorry.' Which was unlike him, because he was a brute and had a knack for hurting people's feelings, but he usually felt remorse afterwards. He knew how to apologise. He knew when he was in the wrong. With Lucy, he hadn't felt he was.

'Anyway,' Rafe sighed, scratching his brow. 'That's what happened, only she went into work today and twisted everything. She accused me of sexual assault. Said I invited her back to my room. That we kissed until she got cold feet. That I put my hand up her skirt, forced her to put her hand on me, and then tried to make her to give me oral sex. She complained to Chris, who got Lydia involved. As far as I'm aware, they're the only people who know about the allegation, but unless I can prove it's a lie, it will go to HR and there are bound to be people who believe it. You know it's guilty until proven innocent in these cases, and even if you are cleared, some people will claim it was only due to a lack of evidence.'

'She accused you of...' Mattie said in dismay.

'I didn't!' he told her earnestly.

'I know!' she nodded. 'You're not like that. You'd never... That bitch!' she cried.

'I promise you, Mattie. I swear to you. I think I can prove it, too, but there's something else I need to tell you before I can explain it to Chris and Lydia.'

'There's more?' He nodded contritely.

'Yes.' He swallowed. 'It's the reason I've been staying at The Exchange; the reason I've been off work.'

'What reason?' Mattie asked, with trepidation.

'I have – had, really, I suppose? – testicular cancer. I found a lump and –'

'You what?' she cried.

'I found a lump,' Rafe said gently. 'I had an ultrasound and some blood tests done, and it was malignant, so on Tuesday, I had it removed – the whole testicle. I had it done privately in London. Got back to the hotel yesterday afternoon, walked past the bar – feeling like absolute crap – and decided to have a drink. A stupid alcohol-free gin that tasted like juice. I just wanted to sit there and remember the way you looked when I first met you, only my balls – ball,' he corrected. 'I've only got one now. It was so sore, I couldn't bear to sit down, so I just stood at the bar. Anyway, Lucy turned up, and she was just someone to talk to.' He shrugged. 'Obviously,' glancing down at his crotch, 'there's no way I'd want to be touched by anyone right now, let alone her. I can explain that to Chris and Lydia, but I needed you to know first,' he finished.

'So, you have cancer, and you've had a testicle removed. You've camped out in London and taken time off work, all without me knowing. Without saying anything?' she asked.

'Because I didn't want to burden you. I didn't want you to feel sorry for me,' he told her. 'I thought you might feel obliged to – I just didn't want to put on you, when you obviously want space.'

'But cancer? You're my husband, the father of my children, and you didn't think to tell me?' she asked sadly.

'I was trying to protect you,' he entreated. Mattie shook her head.

'I can't deal with this. It's just too much.'

'What is?' he asked, confused.

'You. I can't... You can't just make these decisions for me. You didn't give me a choice; by keeping quiet you took away my choice.'

'I'm sorry,' Rafe pleaded, but it was too little, too late.

'I'm sorry, too,' she sighed. 'I love you, and I want to support you through this, but I can't be in a relationship with someone who keeps things from me. Who makes decisions for me, who thinks he always knows best. It's disrespectful. It's stifling. It's not how you treat someone you love; not if you see them as your equal. I can't... I'm sorry, Raffey, but I can't do this anymore.'

'What are you saying?' he asked, his heart pounding with trepidation.

'I'm saying that I love you, but I can't be with you anymore. That I'll be your friend, but I can't be your wife.' Rafe's heart stopped. Or at least, it might as well have. Her words sounded so final and unforgiving that he felt certain the world had ended; that his life was as good as over. He was a fighter; a strong man, a proud man, but he'd taken a beating and he couldn't win without his teammate. He couldn't put things right on his own, and she didn't want to try. Didn't want to fight for what they had.

If he'd loved her less, he would have hated her for giving up. For throwing him away as though he was disposable and not something precious. He'd have grabbed her by the arms and pressed his lips to hers; his body pleading with her to see and feel what his words could not convey. But he did love her, more than anything. More than he thought anyone had ever loved, and so he couldn't hate her. He couldn't disrespect her feelings by pushing himself on her and pleading for forgiveness. He had to listen. He had to be patient. He had to hope, even though he felt that his world was falling apart. With nothing left to say, all he could do was grab a scrap of paper and scribble her a message.

"www.formattie.co.uk"

Mattie took up the slip of paper, glancing at it with parted lips; a surprised exhalation leaving them as she saw the familiar address.

'Number nineteen onwards feels relevant,' Rafe whispered, in a voice choked with emotion, before turning from her and walking away.

'Number nineteen,' she repeated to herself, still staring reverently at the slip of paper. She couldn't remember what number nineteen was. She picked up her phone and opened the website her husband had made for her, by way of apology, seven years earlier.

"Rafe defines love differently

19. Disappointing one another, and getting over it.
20. Making mistakes, because love makes us foolish, blind and fearful.
21. Admitting those mistakes, begging forgiveness and being forgiven, because intentions matter more than actions.
22. Sleeping in Tooting Bec when I have a perfectly good home to go to.
23. Telling you my biggest secrets, and knowing you won't judge me.
24. Being there for one another when we're sad, hurt or ill, and not needing to be asked.
25. Something I had never truly felt until I met you, and now I feel it, I can't live without it"

The last line hung in her mind; she could hear it read aloud in her husband's voice. See it in the look he'd given her before he'd walked away. She could feel the pain she was causing him, but she didn't feel able to stop herself. She wasn't the same person she'd been seven years before and neither was he. They'd changed, grown together, and perhaps, grown apart.

*** Author's Note***

Sorry for the delay, and the chapter ending. It was hard to try and get this one right. I'm sure of what I want to happen, but it's a chapter that I've had to come back to time and again. Still not sure how if I'm happy with it, but I can't leave you guys waiting forever, so here we are.

Do you think Mattie has been unfair, or can you see where she's coming from? Tough times ahead, I think. Some of you may need to take sides (don't hate me!)