It was aperitivo hour on the hotel patio, every bistro table occupied by a couple or small group, little bowls of nuts and olives set out on each. Soft music drifted out from the open double doors to the hotel’s dining room, and the garden was bathed in that perfect pink evening light. It was the first night of the trip that truly felt like vacation—at least to Alex. It almost didn’t matter that it was also their last: that tomorrow, she’d be taking a long series of flights back to Philadelphia and return to her office two days after that. Tonight, Alex was here, on a real, undeniable date with the man she loved, enjoying a long dinner in Cyprus before heading upstairs to the room they were sharing.

She watched him in the romantic light, grabbing a handful of nuts from the small ceramic bowl and taking in the scenery in peaceful silence. Every detail of him was impeccable, dark hair and thick eyebrows and long eyelashes, crisp blue shirt and thin gold chain, broad shoulders and slim waist. She could spend her entire life just observing him and never get bored, her mind drifting to the many exquisite meals they would share over the years. As if reading her thoughts, he turned to her, face relaxing into an easy, effortless smile. He offered his open hand to her across the table and she placed her palm in his, sending a subtle shiver through her body.

“Grenadine,” the waiter said, setting down two highball glasses with reddish syrup and a few large ice cubes. “And sparkling water,” he continued, popping open a large glass bottle of San Pellegrino. The soft pink hue the drink took on as he poured matched the sunset itself.

As the waiter flitted off to another table, Danial raised his glass, looking Alex in the eyes. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she replied, bringing their glasses together for the gentlest clink. “And thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, taking a sip.

“For…” she thought about it, flipping through the endless rolodex of things she was grateful for. “For your letter. For taking care of this hotel. For changing to be on my flight. For upgrading me. For renting a car and driving us here. For being so good to Paul. For… god, for everything.”

The truth was, she could have gone on for an hour, listing out his exquisite acts of service like a hiring manager reading a CV. But she figured she should stop there.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, simply.

“Can I pay you back for anything?” she asked, tentatively. “It’s not huge, but I do have an emergency fund.” She didn’t mention it, but one of her primary motivators in building that fund was to be able to extricate herself from a bad relationship if needed—she could justify using it to help Paul for the same reason.