Page 104 of What Happens in Paradise

He’d put his heart and his pride on the line by declaring his feelings and telling me he loved me. But I’d been too chicken to reciprocate.

Not because I didn’t feel the same, because he was right: I loved him. More than I’d ever loved anyone in my life. But I was scared: genuinely terrified of getting my heart crushed.

There were plenty of examples of age-gap relationships where the man was older and the woman was younger. I mean, look at my ex and his new squeeze for starters.

But the other way around? My brain highlighted countless female celebrities who’ddaredto date younger men and it had ended in tears.

And that was exactly how I saw things going with me and Alejandro.

The pain was already excruciating. But imagine how much worse it’d be if we moved in together and started sharing a life.

My stomach clenched as memories of my painful divorce came flooding back. Including the way my ex argued over stupid things like who got to keep the crystal glasses and I kid you not, the salad bowl. A fucking salad bowl! It wasn’t even anything special. Of course I told him he could keep it. The point was, I couldn’t go through all that crap again.

That was why like I’d said it was better to make a clean break now.

I’d considered what Alejandro had said about going to Hazel or HR and telling them about our relationship. I’d also thought about suggesting we put things on hold for a few months until we both hopefully got our promotions and then we could go to HR. But it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to wait and it only addressed one of the main barriers, so I’d dismissed it.

And now here I was. Alone.

I wiped away another tear, pulled the bedsheet over my head and continued crying into my pillow.

* * *

After dragging myself to the bathroom to get ready for work, I took my concealer out of my make-up bag. I was going to need to use the whole tube to try and disguise my puffy eyes.

I rarely cried. I always considered it a waste of time because it didn’t solve anything. Whatever problems that caused the tears in the first place didn’t miraculously disappear once you’d used up an entire box of tissues, so it was pointless.

Normally, I found that if I threw myself into work or another project, it helped take my mind off things.Keep calm and carry onwas the motto I swore by.

But so far, it wasn’t working. I’d spent the whole day and night sobbing and feeling sorry for myself. I’d tried cleaning my apartment, doing the washing and even reading, but none of them stopped me from feeling upset about how things had ended with Alejandro.

Every time I pictured a happy memory from Jamaica, I was reminded of what I’d let slip out of my fingers.

Today would be better, though. Work was all I needed. I’d be fine.

* * *

Thankfully, the first few days back at the hotel went smoothly. I was rushed off my feet catching up with everything that had happened whilst I was away, welcoming new guests and preparing my final report on Jamaica for Hazel which I’d submitted two days ago.

She’d replied yesterday to confirm she’d received it and would have a proper look at it soon, but had added that so far, she was very impressed with what she’d read and the feedback she’d received from Hortense, so she hoped to have good news for me soon.

Hearing that made me do a happy dance. I’d done it. The promotion I’d wanted for so long was finally about to become mine.

Luckily, I’d avoided seeing Alejandro too. I had access to his schedule so had carefully co-ordinated any kitchen visits for when he wasn’t working.

That didn’t mean I hadn’t spent almost every waking moment thinking about him, though.

My phone rang and when I saw it was Stella, I smiled.

‘Hi!’ I said, getting up from behind my desk. I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d returned to Spain so I decided to head out for a walk along the beach to make sure no one could eavesdrop on our conversation.

I slid off my sandals and let my feet sink into the soft, golden sand. It was different to the whiter sand in Jamaica, but still beautiful.

‘Hey! Are you back in Spain?’

‘Yes. Got back a few days ago.’

‘So… how are things with Hottie-Andro?’

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