For me, sex has been a way to connect or a chance to gain release, but it's never been like it was with Paige tonight. She wasn't afraid to tell me what she wanted, what felt good, and there wasn't a whiff of shame or embarrassment about her body, what she needed, or anything I said to her. Comparisons aren't good for anyone, but I can't help it. Having been with only two women, the experiences are night and day.

When Imogen and I first got together as teenagers, we were nervous and didn't communicate as well as we could've. I recognize that now, and I reckon that pattern only got worse as we got older. Conversations that skimmed over too much, not getting to the root of anything. Never spotted the difference till I started living with Paige.

Imogen rarely gave me any guidance about what felt good or what she liked. If I happened to stumble on something she enjoyed, she'd sometimes let me know, or she'd expect me to realize without her saying. From talking with my mates, I knew it wasn't like that for everyone.

But I loved her, couldn't imagine life without her. She'd seen me through my dad's absence, my mum's death, and my uncertainty about a career. Her family felt like my family. Until she left, and I realized they'd never really been mine at all. Not even there for Chloe, which is much worse in my books.

"You're very quiet," Paige says as she draws idle patterns on my chest. "Regrets?"

"No," I say, and I gather her closer to my side in hopes of hiding my flare of annoyance at myself. Thoughts of Imogen in any capacity have no place here. "Not at all. You?"

"None," she says. "Not yet, anyway."

"You're expecting to?"

"We just made our lives a lot more complicated. I'm not sure what to expect." She glances up at me.

I run my fingers along her arm, and I wonder whether I should ask my next question. Her answer seems obvious, but if I'm going to commit to being open and honest, and if I'm going to pat myself on the back about how different things are with Paige, then I need to ask.

"Was it alright? Is there anything you'd like me to do differently?"

"I had two orgasms, Ash. I'm not very well going to say you should have gone for a third."

"Good to have goals," I say, and I try to hold in my grin. "Aim for three tomorrow."

"If that's your short-term goal, I'm not physically prepared for the long-term one."

"We've got lots of time to work up to it," I say. "Multiples of multiples."

"Seven months," she says. "I'm not sure that now is the right time to mention it, but my visa is actually good for two years. The company has to ask me to stay for another year, but..."

"When will they ask you?"

"I don't know. They might not. Things are a little behind right now, but not a full year behind."

"And then you're going back to America?"

She's quiet for a minute, her hand flat against my chest. "That's where my life is. My house. My family."

It stings a little to have her phrase it like that when I reckon we've built a pretty good life here over the last five months. But I understand she doesn't mean it the way I instinctively took it. England was never the long-term plan. A stopover in her life, not a permanent destination. In our emails and texts, she was very clear on the length of time she'd need me when she hired me.

Perhaps being with Paige is the start of me learning how to be in a casual relationship. Hasn't suited me before, but maybe it will now when the end is already set. I'll be able to hold a piece of myself back, knowing we can't ever be the stable family unit I've craved since I was a kid. More than anything, that's what I want for Chloe—to grow up in a stable, secure household.

"I've never asked about any of these," Paige says, tracing a tattoo that stretches across my pectoral.

It's a version of the solar system with a date in the middle, and it's one of only two tattoos that I have which mean something.

"What's the date in the middle for?" She glances up at me, and I run my hand along her back.

"Date me mum died," I say. "Still felt like she had to be out there somewhere. Impossible to believe that was it. All that energy—that life—just gone."

She leans across me and trails a line of kisses around the planets and along the date. She smooths her hand across my skin and then kisses my chin and cheek. "You're such a gift, Ash. She must have been an incredible mom."

"She tried her best," I say, and my voice is rough with emotion. We didn't have the greatest life—barely two pence to rub together some months, but she was always there for me while also teaching me how to be self-sufficient. I never appreciated how fine that line was until I had Chloe.

"The one on your back right shoulder is for Chloe, right?"

The tattoo is Chloe's birthdate in roman numerals, and I shouldn't be surprised that Paige would recognize it. I was so chuffed that I got it within days of her being born. Imogen has one too, on her wrist. Not a lot of good that reminder did her.

A discontented wail pieces the closed bedroom door, and I draw Paige closer for a kiss. When she draws back, we stare at each other for a beat, and it really, truly hits me how much we might've changed things.

"I can't wait to be with you again," I say.

Paige smiles, and when she kisses me, the remnants of her smile are still teasing at the edges of her lips. My heart is full.

Another, more insistent cry rises, and Chloe is likely concerned that I'm not already out of bed tending to her needs. She's used to me being at her immediate beck and call in the middle of the night. I give Paige one last kiss, and then I climb out of bed to tug on my boxer-briefs. After I've gathered my other pieces of clothing off the floor, I pause at the door for a beat.

"See you in the morning?" As much as I'd like to come back, I agreed to keep the kids separate. While Chloe might not be able to discover me in here, Joey could quite easily.

"I think that's best," she says. "Don't you?"

The way she says it makes me think I could argue, and she'd cave. But I don't want things to be like that with us, where I sense a weakness and take advantage. She was very clear on the boundaries of what we're embarking on, and respecting each other's limits is what's gotten us this far.

"For the best," I agree, and I shut the door behind me to tend to Chloe.

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