‘Sorry…’ I was painfully embarrassed I’d interrupted such an emotional moment. What a dick move. The happiest day of her life and some weirdo was holding out a flower while idiotically standing in front of a bush sprouting at least thirty identical magenta blooms. ‘You dropped this.’

She turned and ran inside while her friend – her wife – gave me a look so withering I expected the plants to shrivel and die. I pretty much wanted to join them.

I sloped back to my own apartment. Inside, a red lacy bra was draped over the sofa and there were noises coming from the bedroom I definitely didn’t want to be hearing. My head was pounding. I swiped a bottle of water from the fridge and headed straight back out. Through the window of Star’s apartment, I could see the girls shadowed in the lamplight, hugging each other tightly. Something tugged at my heart. It wasn’t long ago that I’d held Roxanne in my arms but better empty arms than the wrong person in them. Besides Roxanne was in somebody else’s arms now. Somebody else’s bed.

Bypassing the beach all the tourists use, I strode purposefully until I reached a tiny cove I’d stumbled across the first evening Josh had been ‘entertaining’. It wasn’t too far but unreachable by road, and without parking, toilets and refreshments, hardly anyone came here. It was my favourite place.

I settled on the damp sand, the night breeze springing gooseflesh on my arms. I wished I had someone to share warmth with and not in the way Josh was doing back at the apartment.

Something proper.

Instead of a bottle of champagne for two, I sipped from my lonely bottle of Evian for one, gazing at the creamy moon. A shooting star lit up the sky. I made a wish that I could talk properly to the girl who was already occupying too much head space.

Yeah, I was an incurable dreamer.

The next day my wish did come true, but the circumstances were awful.

Bloody awful.

Chapter Three

Anna

On the first day of my honeymoon, I woke to darkness after a fitful sleep. Immediately I remembered that I hadn’t got married yesterday – the pain of being dumped two weeks before my wedding day. That it was Nell lying beside me in the creaky bed that rocked each time once of us moved. It was her floral perfume, rather than the smell of sex, clinging to the stiff, white sheets. Checking my phone screen, I was surprised to see it was gone eight. Automatically I opened Facebook. Wondering if my ex was regretting his decision. It was torturous visiting his profile page, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Multiple times a day.