‘Yes.’ I was sad but glad I’d met Adam. ‘Nell, are you sure you don’t want me to have dinner with you tonight?’

‘Nah. I couldn’t get in the way of love’s young dream.’

‘It isn’t love.’

‘Are you sure?’ Nell stood behind me. Her eyes found mine in the mirror. ‘There’ll be a way to make it work, Anna. If you want to.’

If.

‘It’s been lovely. Just what I needed. A holiday romance.’

‘We both know it’s more than that. You’re not the type for a quick fling. Life’s too short, Anna. You know that. Don’t let him slip through your fingers.’

‘It’s a rebound. I should have been married now.’ But she knew me better than that.

‘Anna.’ Nell waited until I put the mascara wand back in its tube. My gaze met hers. ‘I never once saw you look at that tosser the way you look at Adam. It’s the first time I’ve seen you smile properly since you lost your dad.’

In the mirror her eyes glistened with tears. Mine did too.

Dinner was paella for old times’ sake. During the meal I turned over Nell’s words in my mind. Should I fight for Adam? For us? I just didn’t know if he felt the same. He was quieter than usual on our walk to the cove. We both were.

‘Anna,’ he said as we reached the fence. ‘I’ve got something for you. For us.’ He pulled a padlock out of his pocket.

‘A love lock!’

‘A friendship lock.’ He said and then I understood. He was letting me go. Disappointment was a bitter pill but I forced a smile, imprinting our names upon the padlock before clicking it onto the fence. I felt him watching me. I raised my head. He was standing in front of a backdrop of sea. The setting sun casting a burned orange halo around his head. No matter what, I would never forget him. No matter what happened tomorrow and everything after this August, I still had this. Him. Now. I was going to savour every last painful minute. It wasn’t an evening for sadness. One thing I’d learned during my time with Adam was that it felt good to be happy. We’d laughed so much together and I was grateful for that. Suddenly I was thankful for the time we’d had, the time we still had, rather than dwelling on the ending of us.

‘Last one on the beach buys breakfast tomorrow at the airport,’ I called out, racing ahead, trailing my joy behind me like a kite.

Once I’d let him catch me, we sat drinking cheap wine that tasted like vinegar. As the sun dipped and the sky darkened, I was comfortably drunk.