We resumed skimming through the photos, some snapshots – all of us at dinner, or shots of us on the boat – and other more artistic, well-composed shots. There were quite a few of me, including a couple ‘Josh and Sarah’ selfies.

Then we came to a shot that made me say, ‘Wait.’ He lifted his finger from the screen, and the image remained. ‘That’s me.’ It was a silly thing to say, really. There were a lot of photos of me; it wasn’t like I’d made some sort of surprising discovery.

Only, maybe I had.

In the photo, I was sitting on the top deck of the boat, and we were under full sail. I was holding on with one hand, while the other arm was outstretched. My hair flowed behind me and my face was tipped towards the sun. I knew that exact moment – we had just left Ios and were in full sail for the first time.

I remembered feeling completely unfettered by responsibility, by expectations, by remorse. All I had felt in that moment was joy. He had captured that feeling so perfectly, I was dumbstruck.

A moment later, I found my voice. ‘We didn’t know each other very well then. It was only the second day.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘I’m wondering why you took this. I mean, it’s quite an intimate shot.’ I looked sideways and caught his profile. His jaw was tense. Crap, I hadn’t meant to upset him, but the photo had taken me off-guard.

‘You looked so happy. I wanted to capture it.’

‘You did. It’s beautiful.’ I hoped it was enough to make everything okay.

He sighed softly. ‘I guess I knew early on you were going to become important to me, even if I wasn’t sure at the time why – or how.’ It was the same sentiment I’d shared with James the night before, and suddenly, all the breath rushed out of my body and my eyes prickled with tears. I blinked them away. What was happening?

‘You’ll have to send me a copy,’ I said, finally. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know what to feel, to think, or do. I did know I couldn’t look at photos anymore. ‘I need to lie down a bit more. I’m still feeling queasy. Will you please excuse me?’

He looked hurt. He probably was hurt. Dismissing his admission like that was horrible, but I needed some time alone. I got up and moved past him. ‘Sure, no problem,’ he said, but I sensed he didn’t mean it.