There are only 20 days left on my calendar. It’s still dark as I descend the villa’s staircase, holding on to the rough, tree trunk banisters. I cross the beautifully decorated space. It has a stunningly sculpted dining table, giant seashells hanging from the ceiling, a simple but elegant arrangement of tiles and stones and wood seals on the open windows. Soundless on my bare feet I make for the sliding doors. This is a holiday villa in Tulum, Mexico that BJ has brought me to. It used to belong to the drug lord, Pablo Escobar.

‘Why Mexico?’ I asked excitedly in the plane.

‘It’s a surprise,’ he said with a smile.

And at midnight I found out. He had hired people to hang strings of blue lanterns all over the beach and a Mariachi band to play. There was a jug of non-alcoholic Margaritas on a mat on the beach.

‘Don’t you recognize it?’ he asked.

And it hit me then. Of course, he was making my favorite song come alive. Drinking Margaritas by a string of blue lights under the Mexican sky while listening to the Mariachi playing at midnight. Are you with me?

I cried then.

As I walk on the white sand it flows up through my toes. I stand at the water’s edge holding my belly. ‘Look where we are, Tommy.’ The cool morning breeze blows my hair from my face. I let the water rush up my toes and blanket my feet. It is incredibly sensuous. I am still standing there with my eyes closed when BJ comes to stand next to me. I look up at him. His eyebrows are drawn in a straight line making his face full of dark pools of shadow.

‘You looked like a mermaid from the window. Something so beautiful I couldn’t fathom touching,’ he says softly.

I smile at him. ‘Come and sit with me. It’s so peaceful here.’

We walk away from the water’s edge, sit on the white sand, and in perfect silence watch the sunrise together. Things are so different now. Every minute we spend together is like a precious gift. We were among the living. We had to do this. So we did it.

Red. Orange. Yellow. The sky becomes an amazing kaleidoscope of color. Next to us, there is a discarded Coke can. That, too, is life. I turn towards BJ. His face is golden, some shades of red.

‘I love you, BJ.’

He leans down as if he wants to see who I am and looks deeply into my eyes.

‘What is it?’ I ask him.

‘I was remembering that first night I found you in my bedroom.’

I grin. ‘When you spanked me?’

‘When you became wet?’

‘You never told me. Were you hard?’

‘Like a fucking rock.’

I laugh. ‘Why did you come up to your room?’

‘I followed you. I saw you go up with Ria. When you didn’t come down, I knew that you must have found my bedroom.’

‘What did you think when you saw me?’

‘When I saw you stealing my tiepin?’

‘Mmmm.’

‘I could not believe my eyes. Layla Eden in my bedroom. And taking what didn’t belong to her. All my Christmases rolled up into one.’

I shrug nonchalantly. ‘I wasn’t really stealing. It was mine. It had my name on it. Just like you have it across your dick.’

He laughs. ‘It’s fucking branded on.’

I pick up a handful of sand and let it flow through my fingers.

‘Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Ria had not asked me to use the upstairs bathroom. Would we never have got together?’

He takes my hand in his. His touch is soothing. ‘I always dreamed of what it would be like to be with you. We didn’t hook up by accident. I was always looking for a way to make you notice me. You had me from the day you lifted your skirt and showed me your polka dot panties.’

‘I didn’t lift it and show it to you,’ I protest indignantly. ‘I fell down.’

‘That’s what they all say.’

‘Oh you are big-headed.’

‘That’s what they all say.’

‘Oh!’ I slap him around the head and he pushes me on the sand. The sex is gentle. The sea. The sand. The orange sky. They were all witnesses. They would keep the memory of my love for this man if by chance I am not able. Inside my belly, Tommy kicks lustily.

Take care of Daddy, if I am not around.