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‘When down the track we’re done and your lawyers screw me out of every last cent you’ve so magnificently bestowed on me, and I’ve given up my career and have nothing to fall back on?’

My brain instantly and vigorously rejects this scenario. ‘I would never do that.’

Holly glares at me and I realise, in my rush to assure her I would never be so malevolent, that I’ve missed the point.

‘What makes you think I would give up my dream of being a doctor because my…’

I hold my breath, pretty sure she’s about to sayboyfriend. But she doesn’t. She pauses as if she’s trying to find another adjective to describe who I am to her. ‘The guy I’m fucking,’ she corrects, ‘is suddenly rich?’

Okay, she’s truly pissed now. Holly doesn’t use the F word that often. Sure, she’s using it deliberately to cheapen what’s going on between us, but I’d be stupid not to acknowledge the anger behind her words.

And that’s on me for how I’ve handled this.

‘No.’ I shake my head, tackling the first part of her statement instead. ‘You don’t have to give up being?—’

Her snort cuts me off. ‘Gee, thanks.’

‘No… I don’t mean… Of course you don’t have to stop being a doctor, I just know how…’

I falter and she folds her arms. ‘How what?’ she demands.

‘How stretched you always feel. You don’t ever seem like you… enjoy it. It seems… hard.’

‘Just because it’s hard, doesn’t mean it isn’t worthy.’

‘Of course it’s worthy.’ Is there anything more worthy? ‘But… do you enjoy it?’

I love being a drummer, sitting on my stool, picking up my sticks, striking the tom. Feeling the thud against my chest and the reverb that vibrates through every cell in my body.

It’s exhilarating. Holly never seems exhilarated.

‘I love being a doctor. Yes, it’s hard and yes, it’s exhausting and yes, I feel stretched pretty thin a lot of the time. And no, I don’t enjoy it a lot of the time. But that’s just the kind of job it is when you’re dealing with people who are sick and scared and worried. It’s not always going to be roses and candy canes. But you know why I want to do this, Danny. Why I need to. I told you why.’

I nod slowly. Her grandmother; I remember.

‘And I don’t want a tattoo, Danny. I don’t care if people do and yours look amazing, but it’s not for me.’

‘Jesus, Holly.’ I shove a hand through my hair. ‘I don’t care about that.’

‘I know,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘But it’s not just about that. I don’t need diamonds or the best concert tickets or a mansion to live in. Neither apparently did Bob. I want to be a rural ER specialist with all the triumphs and yes, the stress that comes with it.’

‘But you can do so much more than that with our money,’ I say. ‘We’ll have enough to buy every rural hospital in the country the best people and equipment available.’

Sure, I’ve just reeled that off the top of my head but… why not? It’s as good a cause as any, right?

She seems momentarily lost for words before she says, ‘Okay, sure. That’s an option. But… I want to work, Danny. I want to be at the coalface. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who’d love to swan around the world, and there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think you should go and find one of them because I don’t think I’m the right person for you.’

I blink at the statement. Like she’s interchangeable, this woman I love.

‘I don’t want anybody else,’ I snap, stung that she thinks I’m that shallow. That what I feel for her is that frivolous. How has this derailed so quickly? ‘Maybe I don’t know what I’m going to do with this money and how it’s going to impact my life. Maybe I don’t have all the answers yet, but I do know I want you in my life.’

She sighs a little. ‘Look, Danny… all of this has thrown you for a bit of a loop. That’s fair enough – becoming an overnight billionaire is big. So maybe what you need more than anything else is to figure out what it’s going to mean for you and your life before you start involving others. With that much money you need to be considered and certain, not reckless.’

I huff out an aggrieved breath. I hate how she sounds so reasonable and I want to reject the advice, but it’s good – sensible. The type of advice that comes from a woman who has a life plan, who doesn’t live from day to day, gig to gig.

Who I love.

And maybe the best way to show that is to offer her a future with a guy who has a plan that’s solid, not half-baked. A plan forme – not her. But one that allows her to slot in if and where she feels comfortable.