I slid the arm of the record player around onto the vinyl and breathed in the sound of the music as it crackled into life. The sound of it to me was like a silky gold. It made me think back to sitting on the rough, scratchy carpet of the front room with the sound of the waves lapping at the shore beyond the window.

As I listened to the gentle melody of the music it gave me that familiar feeling of dry ache. All I ever associated it with was a constant loneliness. The sound of a home that was a house and a family that were only by name and not by nature.

I had often wondered if I would have wanted siblings but I knew that I would only ever have wanted an elder one. Someone who would have looked out for me and protected me. I don't believe I'm much of a protector in life.

The doorbell startled me from my reminiscing and I was tempted to ignore it but I got up anyway. I pulled open the door and jumped, my heart in my throat. Isabel.

"Tim," she said softly, with a hint of urgency.

I stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

"Can I come in?"

Standing to one side she shuffled past me and stood in the hallway, taking in the surroundings. I noticed that her eyes fell on the photographs I had put up of Ivo and I in my attempt to make everything more homely. In all honesty I adored seeing the photos each time I came home.

She made her way into the living room and I inwardly cringed, noticing the conspicuous trail of clothing that led to the sofa from this mornings activities.

"I was visiting a friend. I thought I should call in before I head to the airport," she said, vacantly looking around the living room.

"Ivo's not in," I told her quietly. "He should be home after five."

She stared at me blankly.

"Hmm," she hummed a quiet acknowledgment. "I came to see you, Tim."

"Oh," I replied nervously.

I watched her debate with herself for a number of minutes, silently remarking on how similar her and Ivo were in their mannerisms.

"I have to ask," she started with a look of anguish. "How can you just pretend that nothing ever happened between us?"

I felt light headed. What could I say to her? She watched me for an answer.

"What else can I do?"

She stared.

"I just don't understand how you can tell me that you love me and then now..."

She trailed off and turned to look at the record player that had suddenly stopped playing, leaving a painful silence.

She seemed just as surprised as I felt when I crossed the room and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I never meant to hurt anyone," I told her earnestly and she pulled back to look at me, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

"I love him, Isabel and I'm so sorry that I've hurt you. I don't know how to fix it," I whispered, the pain of it all still so fresh and real in my mind. She pulled from me and I drew back, turning from her for fear that she would look at me with hatred in her eyes.

I didn't know whether to go after her as she left the flat, letting the door snap closed behind her.