“I cannot believe you just did that,” I curse through gritted teeth at Zoey while Rachel covers her laughter with her hand.

“And you can stop bloody laughing. You encouraged her to go over to ‘Mr Grumpy Rude Prick’ and steal his kid’s ball. You should be ashamed of yourself. And all so you could both check him out.”

“I did not check him out,” Zoey exclaims in mock indignation. Placing her hand on her ample breasts, just above her heart as if I’ve wounded her.

“Don’t act all coy and holier than thou,” I warn her. “I watched you all but thrust the girls-” I motion with my hand towards her ridiculously perfect tits “-in his face.”

She draws in a lungful of air on a gasp and the perfect tits I mentioned rise and fall in a display of womanly perfection.

“I did no such thing,” Zoey pouts. “Besides, his eyes never once dropped from my face, not even for a second. He’s likely gay.”

“Or still grieving,” Rachel adds thoughtfully, and we all turn to watch the handsome man with more issues than the three of us put together - and that’s saying something - walk down the beach with his kids in tow. I can’t help but allow my feelings to soften towards him when I stare through the dark lenses of my sunglasses. The scene he makes with his adorable kids is almost picture perfect. Almost. Because I know someone is missing and I wonder who the woman was that undoubtedly made that family complete. She must have been beautiful as their son looks like his dad while the little girl is his opposite and must take after her mother. And that little girl surpasses adorable - she is stunning. Besides, I can’t see a man that looks the way he does, not having an attractive woman on his arm. Yes, he’s a complete wanker, whether he has reason to be or not, but he’s also ridiculously handsome with his dark hair, unkempt stubble and sexy thick rimmed glasses, that today have been swapped out for aviators. His body is lean and toned but more like a swimmer than a gym buff, and his eyes, for the few moments I stared into them, are the stormiest grey I’ve even seen.

“Shit, that was insensitive of me,” Zoey all but whispers as we surreptitiously watch him play in the water with his children. “He looks nothing like Nate, and I forgot the guy is his brother, which meant I totally forgot what he went through last year. He still wears her ring. I saw it when I was talking to him.”

“You think he doesn’t look like Nate?” Rachel muses.

“Not at all,” Zo continues thoughtfully. “I mean Nate has the whole alpha vibe going on, plus his features and colouring are different. Whereas, that guy-” she motions with a tilt of her head to the water’s edge where we all once again watch entranced as he scoops up fish in a net and places them in his little girl’s bucket. “-he’s broody in a hot nerd kind of way.”

“He’s a complete wanker,” I state rather too vehemently causing both my friend’s eyebrows to rise. I don’t expect they’ve ever heard me cuss out anyone before, but the way this bloke treated me the other day was rude as heck.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn, pointlessly rolling my eyes beneath my sunglasses. “I did you a favour, Rach.” I point at my friend a little too enthusiastically. “Which was a favour to Nate, and that guy over there-” again, with the over expressive finger pointing. “-he was an arsehole.”

“What exactly did he say to get you so riled up?” Zoey asks, eager for more information.

I turn my head to look once more at the man now waist deep in the aqua waters, a child on each hip.

“Nothing,” I reply, never taking my eyes off him. “Not a single word.”

The rest of our beach day passes by with lots of girly chatter. Including, but not limited to, gossip about other Aurora staff members – who was hooking up with who, who hadn’t turned up for their last shift, who had messed up the VIP bar account, that kind of thing – and the date that Rachel had planned for a few night’s time with the drummer from one of our regular bands. He’s been asking her out for weeks, but she spurned his advances, until now.

I didn’t want to bring up this particular topic in front of Zoey, what with her feelings for Rachel, but I was torn between being excited for my one friend and saddened for my other.

“So, has Zeke told you where he’s taking you on Sunday night?”

I figured that was a safe opening line, but I didn’t fail to notice the slight flinch Zoey gave at my words, which she covered up by turning from her back to her stomach.

Rachel, totally oblivious to the feelings of her friend lying alongside her, pushes her sunglasses up onto her head and turns to look at me.

“No. The last text he sent just said to wear whatever I felt comfortable in, and that I’d look good in a brown paper bag.”

An unladylike snort came from Zoey at Rachel’s words, and she mumbled under her breath, “Smooth, so smooth.”

Rachel didn’t miss the comment.

“What? I thought it was quite sweet.”

Zoey thankfully remained silent, and Rach continued coyly, “It’s my first date in over six months. I’m more than a little nervous if I’m honest.”

“Don’t be,” I reassure her. “You’re funny, hot, have great hair, are more persuasive than anyone I’ve ever met, are loyal…”

“Hey, are you trying to boost my confidence or write my dating profile?”

I laugh at that but don’t miss the flash of pain across Zoey’s face.

“What? I have two of the hottest best friends on the planet, and not only that, they don’t know how amazing they are, so that makes me pretty lucky and maybe I should tell you guys all this a little more.”

“And who is gonna tell you the same thing, ‘cos you sure don’t listen to us when we say it to you,” Rach replies. “I mean, I’ve known you almost two years, Hal, and you’ve never been on a single date.”

I groan and flop onto my back.

“Yeah, I agree,” Zoey tags on once Rach has finished. “You’re twenty-five, not eighty-five. I know Ian, the complete fuck-nugget, did a number on you, but you’re gonna die an old maid, and your hoo-ha is gonna close up if it doesn’t get some action soon.”

“Thanks, for the sage advice on the state of my hoo-ha, Zo,” I mutter under my breath, wondering how this conversation got turned back around to me.

“We were talking about Rachel’s upcoming date and not my non-existent sex life,” I warn, knowing that my words are a direct hit to Zoey’s heart but needing to shut down this conversation and fast.

The girls know what happened with my ex and only boyfriend. I mean, he’s the reason I’m in Ibiza in the first place. But they don’t know my past, and they don’t know that I’m still in Ibiza, still coasting through life two years later because I have nothing and no one else to go home to; this is my home, and these girls are my family. They’re also the only one I’ve ever had. It’s impossible to explain to someone with roots, with a history and a family that loves them, what it’s like to never know that kind of love. It’s how I ended up with Ian. He promised me everything I never had and found myself craving, only to be a liar and a user and the worst type of person. One who preys upon another’s vulnerability. One who targets their weaknesses and exploits them for his gain or often just his entertainment. I’ll never allow another person to do what he did to me. I’ll never be someone else’s toy. I’ll never be a man’s pet because I’ll never be that girl again. She died that night, and there was nobody to mourn her.

I look back at Nate’s brother and his adorable children who are now packing up their belongings, and I wonder how much you have to love someone to feel the kind of grief he lives with every day. I have a sudden pang of jealously towards his dead wife. What must it feel like to be loved like that?