Not that that meant she was necessarily single.

Not that I was looking, after my disastrous relationship with Roxanne had only finished a few months ago.

But still.

She sipped from a glass almost as large as a fish bowl, crammed full of cocktail umbrellas and fruit on sticks. She had a sense of humour then.

I smiled at her. She turned away but I didn’t mind. I still had ten days left to get to know her.

And I somehow I just knew that I would.

The crowd had thinned by the time she left. The entertainment – and I used the term loosely – finished. The bar felt even emptier without her. Colder. Scrunching up my plastic cup, I tossed it into the recycling bin as I left. She was standing in reception with her friend, their backs to me, checking in. It suddenly seemed vital that I asked what time I needed to vacate my room in ten days so I hovered behind her and yeah, I admit it, I breathed in deeply, smelling the coconut shampoo she used. Even then I was in rapture. Two words pulled me back to reality.

Honeymoon suite?

‘If we could have our key. My wife and I are eager to go to bed,’ the one with short blonde hair said. Star rested her head on her wife’s shoulder and I felt my own shoulders slump. The flower slid out of her hair, fluttering unnoticed onto the floor and I couldn’t help scooping it up. When she left reception, I watched her go. It felt she was taking a piece of me with her.

Yeah, I know how that sounds. Did I mention that I was an incurable romantic?

I felt Miguel’s eyes on me while I clutched the flower sorrowfully between my fingers.

Or an incurable loser.

I wasn’t exactly following her, I promise. I was many things back then but a stalker wasn’t one of them. As luck would have it, her apartment was pretty much opposite mine and Josh’s. Identical, except ours had the giant pink inflatable flamingo Josh had bought on the first day, almost blocking our front door. I was still holding her flower and I wanted to give it back to her. I knew she had a wife, but I hoped that we could be friends. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was about her I found so interesting but there was… something.

‘Excuse me,’ I called, approaching her. It wasn’t until she turned that I realized she was crying. My eyes flickered towards the ‘Just Married’ banner hanging in their room, the champagne bottle on the table, before resting back on hers again.