I slink out of Freddie’s suite, making sure no one is around before dashing to my own. I feel as if I’m doing the walk of shame – not because of the dream, I’m not that deluded, but because if Daniel or Eva see me, I’ll have some explaining to do – they think we’re sharing a suite. The two of them thinking I’m here with Freddie is my safety blanket; it gives me something to hide under and staves off the cold feeling. I know it’s not real, I promise you I know that, but it’s all I have right now, while I wait for time to fix me up. Just because I’m not alone, doesn’t mean I don’t feel lonely right now. I have Freddie to spend time with, and Ali is here, but Daniel and I had something you can’t get from a friendship – I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with him. The only thing that hurts more than him going behind my back with Eva is just how easily he has replaced me with her.

I think I’m safe the second I close my suite door behind me, but I think I was better off outside.

‘Ciao,’ the tall, naked Italian man standing in the kitchen in front of me says awkwardly.

‘Hi,’ is all I can get out in response.

More troubling than the fact he’s naked is that he’s covered in something… something I sincerely hope is Nutella.

He’s surprisingly ripped, for a barman, so he must take good care of himself. Then again, I don’t imagine you absorb too many calories from your food, when all you do is smear it across your abs.

Ali walks out of the bathroom, a white hotel towel wrapped around her. I really, really hope she keeps the towel away from the Nutella – it’s my laundry the maids think they’re doing.

‘Lila,’ she says, hurrying over to me. ‘There you are – I was worried sick.’

‘It shows,’ I reply, hugging her back.

‘This is Massimiliano,’ she tells me, of the naked man standing in my suite. It’s nice to be kept in the loop.

‘Call me Max,’ he says. As he approaches me to kiss my cheek, I raise my hands in front of my body.

‘Oh, relax, it’s just chocolate,’ Ali says.

‘I don’t want to spoil my lunch,’ I joke.

It’s as if there’s an elephant in the room, in many, many ways. In psychology, they say don’t think about the pink elephant, in an attempt to show you how hard it is to take your mind off something as soon as you try. That’s pretty much how I feel right now. Trying not to think about the fact that Max has little Max out, just hanging there, makes it harder and harder (not like that, although now that I mention it…) for me not to think about it. I feel as if it’s following me around the room.