And then we got to the awkward part where it was actually time to part ways. I turned away from the three of them and by the time we got outside, tears were streaming down my face. Josh seemed to know exactly what to do – he didn’t talk, but he did put a strong arm around my shoulder as we walked back to the hotel in silence.

When we got back to the room, we had sex again. But this time, there was something kind of melancholic about it. And though we clung to each other throughout, our bodies as close as two bodies can be, we didn’t speak during sex, either.

Afterwards, we lay next to each other in the dark, a little bit of moonlight peeking through the window, and talked quietly.

‘You know, Sarah,’ he’d started hesitantly, ‘I truly hope I know you for the rest of my life.’ Tears stung my eyes at the sweetness of his words.

‘I’ve never known anyone like you. You’re brilliant and intrepid and amazing and so open.’ Open? Me? He continued, ‘I’ve never felt this okay about being myself around someone. You should know that I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone before.’

Me too, Josh.

‘And you deserve a great guy, a guy who adores you and wants to have grand adventures with you.’ I felt hope swell within me. He was going to tell me he felt the same way I did – that the feelings between us were incredibly special and we should do everything we could to be together.

‘I just don’t think I’m that guy.’

Oh.

My hope vanished in a puff of stabbing disappointment. So, it wasn’t the part where he declared he couldn’t live without me. It was the part where he gave me the ‘let’s just be friends’ spiel.

I was relieved he couldn’t see the tears sliding down my face into my hair. I hadn’t been able to find my voice, so instead I squeezed his hand and feigned sleepiness with a little yawn. I rolled onto my side with my back to him and soon enough, heard his breath steady. Then I had lain awake for an hour or so, thinking. When sleep did come, it was patchy and full of sadness.

That morning, with my head on his chest, I didn’t want to wallow in his words – they were too painful. I plastered what I hoped was a reasonable facsimile of a smile on my face and lifted my head. God, he was beautiful.

‘Breakfast?’ I asked with more cheer than I felt.

He smoothed my hair with his hand. ‘Sure.’ Then we got out of bed, got dressed and went to breakfast.