I've always loved the simple act of someone holding my hand. It's such a little gesture, but there's an intimacy there, too. This was why I was so delighted when I discovered Ric liked to hold hands. Declan never really did. Anytime I tried to grasp onto his palm, he'd find an excuse to pull away within moments. The best reason given was probably in Ibiza, when he simply pushed my hand back towards me and said, "No thanks, you're way too sweaty."

How very romantic, eh?

Anyway, Ric takes my hand again, unbidden, as we enter the hotel and follow the signs for the wedding. It reassures me, and I swallow a gasp of delight, my heart going like the clappers.

"Listen, Abby," he says quietly as we walk. He speaks quickly, like he wants to get it out in a hurry. "I want to apologise for the other night, at the quiz. I know my behaviour wasn't the best."

I'm surprised at that. I didn't really expect him to say sorry. After all, in the grand scheme of things, he didn't actually do anything wrong. Apart from attempt to rip my heart out of my chest, but that's neither here nor there.

"Don't worry about it," I reply, as breezily as I can. "Let's just focus on today, okay?" I force myself to meet his eyes. Uncertainty flickers in those dark irises, but he nods reluctantly.

"Bride or groom?" We're asked as we enter the room where the ceremony is taking place. I can already see my colleagues in a row near the back, though, on the bride's side, so I lead us over.

"This is Ric," I say after we've settled down. Sara stretches around me to shake his hand.

"Ah, I wondered who the hotty outside belonged to," she laughed. Sara has no filter, in case that wasn't obvious.

"Er . . . I'm right here!" Sara's other half, Jeff reminds her. I think he's joking.

"There's no harm in admiring the view," she teases, and I see colour flooding its way along Ric's cheekbones. The blushing, I reflect, is almost as cute as the hand-holding. Which, by the way, is still happening, despite the round of introductions still going on. He seems reluctant to let go.

"So you've kept us in the dark about this guy," Sara continues, nodding in his direction. "How did you two meet?"

"We're actually flatmates," I blurt awkwardly. Damn, we probably should have come up with a whole back story. I've recently been more preoccupied with our real-life issues, though!

"But I fell for her as soon as she walked through the door to view the flat," Ric adds, surprising me. Okay, so we're going for the more truthful angle here? I can work with that. He chuckles. "She took a little longer to be persuaded."

I suddenly realise what he's doing. It's the same thing he did that night outside the lodge. He's not acting; he's flipped the switch back on, at least for today, and is leaning into his actual feelings. Well, two can play at that game.

Perhaps if I just embrace the madness too, I can persuade him this is as real for me as it is for him? And, if not, I'll at least have this memory of today to add to the night in Jinty's before everything went to shit.

Game on.

I take a deep breath and then look directly at him. "Actually, I fell pretty fast too; I just didn't want to admit it to myself," I tell him. Honesty is the best policy, after all.

Confusion briefly passes across his handsome face. Then his gaze softens as he lifts my hand to his mouth and presses a tender kiss to my skin, maintaining that bloody eye contact the whole time. Every nerve in my body leaps into high alert.

"Aw, young love," I hear Sara say fondly, and I know it's my turn to redden. I look back at Sara, and she winks at me before returning her attention to her husband.

Ric bends his head to my ear, and my skin prickles again. "Well played," he whispers. "I almost believed that myself for a minute." My heart plummets in disappointment. Why can't he get it?

I double down. "I meant it."

He doesn't respond to that. "So where's our knight-in-not-so-shining-armour?" He asks, looking around, as if that moment didn't just happen.

"I don't think he's here yet." I scan the room too, realising I hadn't even thought to look for Declan. I'd been too busy gazing longingly into Ric's eyes to even consider my ex. "He'll probably be late. It's his thing." I shrug, and Ric sighs.

"Prick," he mumbles under his breath. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts scrolling through Facebook, but he continues to anchor himself to my right hand. "I have to ask," he says eventually, not raising his eyes from the mobile. "Why did you put up with this sort of behaviour from him? Just accept it the way you do, even now? His lateness, the way he led you on? Everything?"

"It's like you said, I was blinded at the time," I reply, watching him swallow hard, his scrolling pausing. "And now? I genuinely just don't care enough to do anything other than accept that's the way he is, and that won't change."

"The way he treated you was shit." He slips his phone back in his pocket and raises his eyes to mine. "You deserve someone who can offer you so much more than that." My breath catches at the look on his face. A strange mix of desire and affection - an unexpected but potent combination. He clears his throat and rubs at his face. "I just hope you find him."

My heart sinks further.

I look away. "I'm pretty sure I already have, but he won't fucking give me a chance," I mutter.

He sighs. "Abby . . ." But I don't get to hear whatever he's planning to say to let me down easy this time. The background music gets louder all of a sudden, indicating the bridal party is about to make their presence known.

At the same time, there's a clattering behind us near the door, and Declan and Carrie quickly run up the aisle and slide into the only spare chairs left, a row in front of us. I glance at my watch - yep, a minute before the ceremony is actually scheduled to start.

Their hissed bickering is loud enough for our row, and probably several others nearby, to hear.

"If you'd not insisted on having another round of drinks, we'd have been on time, rather than having to rush!" Carrie snaps at the Former Love of My Life.

"Oh, relax!" He sounds exasperated. "We barely had to rush at all. It's not like it's your wedding."

"Exactly! It's Sophie's wedding, and we can at least afford her the courtesy of not being late."

"Who's Sophie again anyway?" Declan asks, and I find myself sighing now. What did I ever see in this guy?

Carrie ignores him. It's probably a wise decision. With meerkat-like movements, she jerks her head around the room and finally realises we're right behind them. "Hey guys!" She smiles widely as her gaze falls on my date. "Ah . . . You must be Ric."

Declan's head whips around at that, like a startled cat, and I see him focus first on our interlinked digits. Ric's hand tightens around mine. Declan glances at me, and I force a bright smile.

"Hi Abby," he gulps. Looking guilty. And confused. Possibly also a little jealous?

I find myself very much not caring.

"Declan." I nod. I turn back to Ric, who has thrown Carrie a perfunctory, decidedly low-watt smile. I debate whether to formally introduce them and decide I can't be bothered. Ric completely ignores Declan and instead brushes a gentle, reassuring kiss against my cheek.

What is he doing to me?

Before I can overthink things even more, the Bridal March strikes up, and it's finally time for the ceremony to begin. But, as we all rise and turn to watch Sophie practically floating along the aisle in layers of white tulle and blissful delight, I resolve once again to make the most of this affection from Ric for as long as I have it.

And I try to ignore the fact that Declan is breaking basic wedding etiquette and is watching me rather than the bride . . .