Justin shakes his head. ‘Don’t ask me. Romance and the do’s and don’t’s are so far off my radar right now, I’m almost definitely gonna say the wrong thing.’

‘Ah, no,’ Jojo sighs. ‘Lachlan, look. He’s totally heartbroken.’

‘She’s right,’ Justin confirms. ‘I got dumped.’

‘You see, Lachlan? I’m always right.’

Lachlan nods, probably not out of choice. I turn around to the bar and order another round of cocktails. Justin washes his face with the hot tub water and shakes off the drips, a miniature wake-up call.

‘Fuck it,’ he says, flashing a toothy smile, although his dark eyes don’t glisten. ‘It happens to the best of us. And let’s look on the bright side, folks. I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t decided to end it. So … Cheers!’

A waiter approaches with our tray of drinks and we each take one to raise a glass for Justin’s toast. Jojo tells Justin how he must take all the time he needs to heal, repeating over and over again how it’s the worst thing ever, the worst thing ever, the worst thing ever, how she understands heartbreak and fuck, it really is, the worst thing ever. Lachlan is sombre. He agrees with Jojo.

‘Getting dumped sucks ass,’ are his precise words.

‘It’s cool, buddy,’ Justin says. ‘She wasn’t anybody special.’

I pull all the generic facial expressions, pretending to join in their solidarity. It’s a relief when Lachlan confesses he’s so hungry he might pass out, so he and Jojo get out of the hot tub. Justin tells them the drinks are on him. Jojo gushes her thanks and Lachlan shoots out another fist bump. Their energy has drained me. I order a beer.

‘Make it two,’ Justin calls out.

‘Well, let this be on me,’ I say.

‘I appreciate it. How’s the ankle?’

I grimace.

‘It’s okay, Chloe. You don’t have to tell me what really happened.’

The cold beer is a treat; better than the sugary mai tai itching my back teeth. I love the bubbles, the instant satisfaction. I spread out in the hot tub, dip my head back, wet all of my hair. In another life, I could be on a real holiday right now.

‘I lied, too,’ Justin tells me, a short nod of his head in the direction of the young Aussies, now gone from sight. ‘A white lie, of course.’

‘You weren’t dumped?’ I ask.

‘Oh, no, that part was true. I lied when I said she wasn’t anybody special. She was my wife.’ Justin swigs, sighs. ‘My wife of twenty-one years.’

I almost spit out my drink.

‘Ah, hun. That’s rough.’