‘Thanks,’ I say with a smile.

I head back into the bar, scanning the room for Freddie, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I don’t think I’m far from assuming that he has done a runner when I spot him behind the bar.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask him.

‘Did you just ask me if the bar was open?’ he replies. ‘Yes, it is. It’s always open.’

‘What?’ I laugh. But then I realise – he’s recreating the night we met.

‘Can I have a porn star martini, please?’ I ask, playing along as best I can. ‘Are you allowed behind there?’

‘It’s great, being famous, people pretty much let you do whatever you want,’ he whispers. ‘Now stay in character.’

‘Okay, sorry.’

‘What’s your name?’ he asks.

‘Lila,’ I reply. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Freddie,’ he replies as he finishes making my drink. ‘I knew what you’d order so I got a head start making it. Here we are, one porn star martini.’

Rather than place it down on the bar, he walks out from behind it, carrying it with him. Then he places it down next to me.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask him.

‘I’m doing what I should’ve done the night we met,’ he replies. ‘This.’

Freddie hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me close before planting a kiss on my lips, all in one swift motion.

‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he says as he releases me. ‘I just want to kiss you all night.’

‘You know, they do food to go here,’ I point out with faux innocence.

‘Oh, really?’ he murmurs, kissing me again. ‘Let’s do that, then. Just warn me if there’s going to be a sex toy on your coffee table.’

My entire body goes rigid in Freddie’s arms.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

‘The sex toy… the one that Ali put in my suitcase, the one you saw on the coffee table. People kept seeing it and thinking it was mine so I threw it under the sofa in the villa. I never got it back out.’

‘Oh,’ he smiles. ‘Ah, well, we probably don’t need it tonight.’

‘No, I’m sure we don’t. We probably don’t need to eat either.’

‘My appetite has shifted,’ he says, kissing me again.

Suddenly I feel very aware of the fact we’re in the middle of a bar, and Freddie is a celebrity.

‘Let’s go,’ I say, leading him towards the door.

It’s a strange feeling, not knowing where we’re going. I mean, we know where we’re going now, we’re going back to my flat and we’re not leaving again until one of us absolutely has to, but, in a more general sense, I have no idea what’s on the horizon.

I planned my wedding down to the last little detail and look how that turned out. No amount of planning could’ve saved it.

If the best-laid plans always go awry then perhaps it’s time I start winging it. We can write our happy ever after a day at a time.