All that time, Tyler hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t asked Emily questions about her choice of lifestyle, instead filling the moments with stories from their shared past. He had spoken about sandcastles, snowmen, and fireworks that you could still see when you closed your eyes, and Emily had been perfectly content to listen, to remember all the good bits, without ever allowing her mind to drift into the parts she had so carefully chosen not to ever think of.

Hours later, when her feet were throbbing and her mind was stuffed full with images of just one afternoon, Tyler convinced her that what she needed most of all, instead of a bubble bath back at the hotel, was a cocktail.

They came to a stop in front of a bar, outside of which people sat in bright yellow chairs next to palm trees in oversize planters, and there was a pink neon strip light above the entrance. Inside was just as trendy, just as intimidating, with parquet floors, recessed seating, and ivy trailing the full height of one wall. A bartender was flipping bottles over his shoulder, a long line of liquid pouring into a row of tall glasses, and every inch of the space was filled with young Parisians enjoying what, for them, was a night out like any other.

For Emily, it was altogether other, because this was the first time she had ever set foot in such a place. It made her feel like a tortoise without its shell, desperate to hide away, to retreat into a space that was small, quiet, and familiar.

“Come on.” Tyler eased her close to his side, slipping his arm around her waist and guiding her through the crowd to perch on a velvet chair at the bar.

Emily scanned the menu for something to focus on other than how completely out of place she felt.

“What do you want?” Tyler had to bend close in order to be heard, and Emily felt his breath on her cheek, found herself shaking her head as she leant away.

Tyler looked as if he was about to say something but then turned to the bartender and began a conversation Emily couldn’t have followed even if she had been able to hear it properly. A few minutes later two bottles of beer were slid across the bar, along with a couple of shot glasses containing luminescent blue liquid.

“What’s that?” Emily picked up one of the bottles and used it to push the shot glass away.

“Dutch courage,” Tyler shouted over the music, then picked up both glasses and handed one to Emily before swallowing his drink and screwing up his eyes as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. “Come on.” He gave her shoulder a gentle poke, and Emily surprised herself by raising her own glass to her lips, then pouring its contents down her gullet.

It was like fire and ice, all at once, along with a nose full of seawater that made her eyes sting. She blinked rapidly as a shiver ran right through her core, wiping at her eyes as she spied two more shots had somehow appeared in front of her.