Conviction. Being hugged and kissed, held and loved by Kate was enough to make conviction simple, confession a certainty. For the last ten minutes, Rana had only been thinking of Kate's sweet words and tender affections… trying to imbibe as much courage as possible. It had not been working. The false alarm of Imran, his careless whimsy – he was a kind brother, but it felt as if his unexpected entrance had ratcheted up the tension needlessly. She had been needlessly harsh to him. And now Zee had arrived. Her husband and brother exchange some jovial banter. Imran leaves.

"He's mad." Rana thinks she hears herself acknowledge it. But it's too much. Think of Kate. Think of all the secrets and lies. She has to tell the truth. Now. Heartbeat too fast to bear, hypertension, breathing at a crescendo. She's shaking. Now, Rana!

"Zee..?"

Ignored? No, even worse – he'd missed it completely. Only one word, and she could manage nothing more than a croak. Pathetic. She's reminded of confessing having not done her homework to a school teacher at the age of about six - all weak and vulnerable and scared. "Miss Spicer..?" The same timid hesitation and fearful cracking of the voice. It betrays the dread, guilt and hot shame. The stakes were a little lower then; but at least she had the excuse of a child's irrational fears. Meanwhile, Zee has launched into another oblivious sales pitch of the café. Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself..? No, remember to smile. His words blur and meld. Not listening. Head's still spinning.

Trying again. Perversely, this romantic atmosphere might make it all easier. Seated now. Lights dimmed. An intimate serenade hovers along andante in the background - a gentle requiem.

"…same kind of food as Speed Dial but, like, a younger vibe?"

"Sounds great..." It's slightly easier to focus on his words now, but Rana can only bring herself to a mechanical approval of the idea. Something about sofas and floor cushions… it could work. Zee has been radiant in the last week, full of ideas and creativity for the café. If she could encourage his business now – and it will be only his – then perhaps it could make her betrayal easier to take. She decides to continue.

"I love to see you so full of energy." A sharp intake of breath after this one almost gives her away.

"Hey, this is us – not just me."

"It's your thing. You made it happen." Still trembling. "You should be proud. I know you'll make it a big success." He should be proud. And she should be telling him. And Kate should be holding her now… no, don't think of that. But it's too late. The familiar signs of a tearful breakdown begin. Short, shaky breaths. Lump in the throat (the globus sensation – funny how a medical textbook can come to mind now). She's been doing a lot of crying lately, so it's easy to recognise. Zee remains oblivious.

"Today's been so weird."

"Yeah. For me too." Now, Rana… It's an ideal time. Eyes water, and the tears approach in a dreadful wave. Deep breath, she can-

"And when Luke told me you were pregnant I like- I knew it weren't true but… I dunno, I got this kind of pang of excitement in my stomach like…"

Shut up. Please.

"…what if it was true? And for a split second I was so happy." The shame piles on. Now she's not just guilty for cheating on him. She's also guilty for not being pregnant. It was an atrocious lie told in high panic; and frankly, she feels, she deserves this.

"I know it's too soon and everything, we've got so much to do with the café but it was like… a flash-forward glimpse of our future."

It's not her life. And her life isn't his.

"No one really knows what's in the future." Weak and ambiguous; a strange comment like that being all she can muster. The moment has gone. She smiles and shrugs, all she can do to hold back that flood of tears and sobs. How has he not noticed..? Incredulity mixes with regret; a mesh of shame and anger that leaves her paralysed.

"… and you. And kids. Our families behind us. And the best, coolest café in the whole of Manchester." The café! Again! Kids! How can he talk like this, given the state of her? Of course her family would be behind her, smiling approvingly at her own emotional torture. At this point her shaking isn't due to her nerves. To be held by Kate now, to be held by understanding and bravery… She had been like that once. Was it these feelings or this marriage that had changed her?

"… touch it and I am gonna work so hard to make it happen for us… hey, you okay? You're shaking." Finally, he notices. She makes an attempt to respond; her mouth opens, but she has no voice.

"Happy tears?"

A nod and a smile. She falls into Zee, all she can do to hide her grief and preserve this perfect torment. He puts his arms around her. He's not the one. He never was. Crying again.

Rana had gone ahead of Zee, Alya and Imran, having mumbled something about bringing the drinks in. It was a small mercy they were so caught up in Imran's new job and the café. Her family, ever 'behind her'. Even a change of clothes and makeup in the interim had not left her able to hold a conversation. Her failure had resulted in a discombobulated mix of numbness and sensory overload. Depersonalisation, she recalled. Perhaps this was the comedown from all the pent-up, useless adrenaline. Heavy steps echoed on the cobbles, a harsh and steady staccato in the cold January air. Kate needed to know.

She'd made it to the Rovers a few seconds in front. Kate stood up immediately. Dully, Rana realised Sophie had been sitting with her. But it wasn't important now. Surely her face showed what had happened, so she blurted it out quickly.

"I couldn't do it. But I will."

"No. You won't." And though there is a sting in seeing the distrust and disappointment on Kate's face, what could be more searing than the sense that Kate was already expecting her to say that? Kate walks back over to Sophie-

"I thought you was getting us drinks?" Her boisterous husband whips her around, a strong and insensitive hand pulling her back into the world, corporeal with alcohol and laughter. Kate quickly leaves with an angry, wounded glare and Rana can only remain silent, staring pitifully back - reminded again of Miss Spicer and a terrible mistake and who exactly has she betrayed here?