My husband sent me a message today asking for tech support with his soundbar and printer. I was planning to go to Lymington with a friend today, but I said that I could pop in for an hour or so in the morning to sort it out for him.

When I arrived, he was very shakey – vibrating with anxiety. In turn, my anxiety rose – but I’m better at hiding it than him. He got a jolly-hockey-sticks version of me as a result of the mask. When I’m anxious I can become overly cheerful, but I feel my breathing increasing and my heart racing.

He asked me if he was disrupting any plans. I told him about the plan to go to Lymington with a friend.

“Is that a potential partner?” He asked. “No, we’re friends – no bodily fluids exchanged.”

He was visibly upset, but I don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because I’m “getting on with my life”, and he is still in a bad place from the collapse of our marriage.

The truth is that he is not easily replaced – cannot be replaced. I am not looking for another partner, not now, and maybe not ever.

I managed to get the printer working, although I cannot imagine how they thought that a mere mortal would be able to set it up – it was a little complicated.

The TV and soundbar ought to have been able to pair via Bluetooth, but the TV simply wouldn’t recognise the device. It accepted an optical audio cable, so I nipped home to get one.

What is it with me that I the thing I’m looking for is usually in the first place I look, but I can’t actually find it until I’ve searched everywhere else and then gone back to the first place? Idiot! “You can’t find anything unless it bites you,” my mum used to say.

Once I’d found the cable, the TV was easily sorted.

I reassured my husband that it’s ok to ask for my help with technical things – at least I can do that for him, even if I cannot deal with the emotional problems that he needs to process and express.

Once the TV was sorted, I joined him outside for a coffee, which was when he asked for help paying for the divorce. The total cost is about £1100. I’ll pay half after pay day next week.

It’s an unexpected cost, so I’m going to have to be more careful with money next month.

I never wanted to divorce – I suppose I hoped that we could slowly work our way back together without that. He needs clarity though and I said that anything I could do to help him I would – I hate to see him to anxious: it makes me frightfully anxious myself – and that’s not good for me either.

As I was preparing to leave, he said maybe one day in the future when – we’re more relaxed with each other – we can go to the Lymington Street market together.

“I’d like that,” I said.

“I know,” he replied.

While we hugged and said our goodbyes, we both said “I love you.”

I used to think that love alone was enough.

I wish that it was.