She slammed her files down upon the table. “I thought you had it all planned,” she said, coldly. “We leave this place in June and move back to my parents. That was your idea.” Her fists were bunched up at her sides.

I made my way over to her, slowly. “Alice, listen,” I said, almost a whisper, “I’m needed here. I can’t just leave.”

“You’re always saying that. Two years, Jason. I’ve been hearing that for two years.” The fists were shaking now. I’ve never seen her like this.

I tried again. “There was a… delay in the project. I’m still involved in it. I tried telling them that I had to go, but they didn’t listen. But they did say-”

“I don’t give a damn what they say!” She snapped, picking up a picture frame (the two of us were on holiday in Pisa) and hurling it to the other side of the room. The crash was deafening.

Alice rounded on me. “If you’re not coming back to Earth with me, then I’m done.” She started tearing up. “You don’t even miss your son, do you?” she said as she left the room, sobbing.