“Say cheese!” The photographer says as the nine of us all pull wide, happy grins- and no one's grin is wider or happier than the bride's. I smile as the tall, handsome groom approaches... and kisses the woman stood six feet to my left.

It should really have gone without saying that at this particular wedding, I’m not the bride- Lauren is. And while I can hardly begrudge her finally marrying the man she loves (they have been together for ages, after all), the fact remains that of the nine of us, eight are in a relationship with the man or woman of their dreams… and I’m the one that isn't.

“Okay,” the photographer says. “This time, just the bride, the groom and their families.” I maintain my smile as I stand aside for Lauren's parents and Michael's family, but inside, I’ve never felt more alone. Fortunately for me, though, I'm not truly alone- not when I have as many friends as I do.

“You really should not feel so anxious,” my BFF says as she approaches me, her burgundy-coloured bridesmaid’s dress rustling with every step she takes. “All this wedding means is that you are next.” My forced smile becomes genuine as Ophelia takes my hand in hers- a reminder of the unconditional (albeit platonic) love that we have for each other- but I still can’t help but let out a sigh.

“I wish I was as confident as you, O,” I say. “And besides, I think Katie would have a thing or two to say about that.”

“Nonetheless,” Ophelia says, “If you were to randomly select nine women aged 23 or less, how many of them would you expect to be married?”

“…Less than seven,” I sigh. “Okay, I know I shouldn’t be so anxious. I’ve got ages to find my ‘Prince Charming’. I still feel, you know, uncomfortable, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Ophelia says, her natural accent slipping through- which only happens when she’s emotional. It doesn’t take long for me to realise that in this case, the emotion is ‘irritation’. “If you feel uncomfortable right now, how do you imagine I feel wearing this dress in this heat?”

“…Touché,” I say, trying not to giggle as Ophelia stealthily wipes a bead of sweat from her brow.

The reason it’s so hot is down to two things- firstly, today is the 13th of July, and secondly, Lauren, in her infinite wisdom, decided to have her midsummer wedding on the island of Cyprus. Lauren’s father’s mother is Cypriot (Lauren’s grandfather was Scottish and met her while stationed by the RAF in Cyprus) and Lauren’s always been proud of her heritage. I will admit, though, that part of me is with Ophelia in wishing that Lauren’s heritage was Norwegian or Icelandic instead.

“I shall be glad when it is September,” Ophelia says, grinning as her husband approaches.

“I shall be more glad when it is October,” Telemachus says, taking Ophelia’s right hand in his as I release her left hand. “For then we may celebrate our anniversary!”

“Oh please,” I snort. “You two celebrate your anniversary every day!” I grin as both Ophelia and Telemachus smile bashfully, before nodding in agreement.

“Touché,” my BFF giggles. “Though today it would be inappropriate for us to ‘celebrate’. Just as it was last week.” I smile as I remember back to seven days ago, when we were thousands of miles away on a completely different continent… but doing exactly what we’re doing today, namely celebrating the wedding of one of our friends and sweating a lot.

That wedding was the wedding of our friend Katie (not ‘our’ Katie, but Katie Fahey, ‘American Katie’) to her fiancé Danny, who’s the older brother of our friend Alexa. Rather than Alexa and Jenny’s elaborate ceremony last year, Katie’s wedding was a very intimate, family affair in the local church of Katie’s hometown, but was no less beautiful than any other wedding I’ve attended. And, of course, Katie was just as beautiful as any other bride in her wedding dress, as were Alexa and Jenny in their bridesmaid’s dresses.

And yes, the nine of us that flew over from London did get teased about being nine Brits who flew to the United States on the 4th of July. The flight from America back to London this Monday just gone (the 8th) was much more fun though, with thirteen of us flying together (well, eleven, as Danny and Katie were in first class). The flight this Thursday to Nicosia was fun too, albeit with nine of us flying standard class while Lauren and Michael flew first class (Katie and Danny are honeymooning in Venice and only came to Cyprus for the ceremony and the reception). What I couldn’t ignore, though, was that there was an odd number of people on each flight- and I was always the odd one out. It was either 4, 5 or 6 couples plus me. It’s hard to remain optimistic about your love life and it’s hard to even ignore your single status when it’s constantly being rubbed in your face…

“Hey you three!” Jenny says as she and her wife approach where we’re stood. There’s that odd number again, I think to myself…

“Hello Jennifer, Alexa,” Ophelia replies politely but with a wide grin. “I trust you enjoyed the ceremony?”

“It was BEAUTIFUL,” Jenny gushes.

“Almost as beautiful as ours,” Alexa says, smirking as her wife pouts. “Almost. But not quite, hehe!”

“You’d better say that, Mrs!” Jenny says in a playful growl, before sharing a kiss with her wife.

“Have you enjoyed the celebration of your anniversary?” Telemachus asks.

“It’s been great!” Alexa replies. “It’s been really fun getting to see parts of the UK we didn’t get to see when we were over here last year.”

“Yeah, I saw the photos of you two with Natalie and Zoe on Canal Street,” I tease my friends, who both blush.

“I actually think I’m still hungover from that,” Alexa giggles. “Though I am really looking forward to seeing Brighton as well.”

“We drove through there when we were over a couple of years ago,” Jenny says. “But didn’t get the chance to properly see it.”

“Well, you are fortunate that you will have two natives of the city to guide you when we return to England,” Ophelia says with a grin.

“Though as proud as I am to be from Brighton,” I say, “our beaches aren’t a patch on this!” The five of us all smile as I gesture to the vast expanse of sand where the wedding took place, and the bright blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea beyond.

“That much is certain,” Ophelia chuckles. “I am afraid that England may be a let-down after today.”

“Meh, as long as you guys are all there, it’ll be good enough for me,” Jenny says with a smile that we all mirror.

“So you’ve changed your mind about Venice, then?” Alexa asks, making her wife pout.

“I… May need some additional context,” Telemachus says.

“Jenny wanted us to go to Venice, with Katie and Danny,” Alexa explains. “I pointed out we would kinda be gatecrashing their honeymoon.”

“Ah,” Telemachus says. “So it would be not unlike if Ophelia and I accompanied Jacinta on her honeymoon?” What honeymoon? I self-pityingly think to myself.

“I still want to go to Venice…” Jenny mumbles petulantly.

“Well, you can always go next year,” I suggest with a shrug. “AngelCon 2020 will be in Rome, after all.”

“That’s true, I suppose,” Jenny says, the smile returning to her face. “Though I reckon AngelCon 2019 will take some topping!"

“Yep!” I say. “A lot of hard work for me, but it’ll at least pay well, hehe!”

“Hehe!” Alexa giggles as we’re dragged back in for yet another photograph.

After yet more photographs, we’re escorted to the marquee that’s been erected on the beachfront, where we’re all served a delicious seafood dinner, before the groom, best man and father of the bride all make their speeches. The cake is cut next, before Lauren clambers onto the top table, ready to throw her bouquet. As always, I and the other single women are ushered to the centre of the room, ready to catch the bouquet, but as I wait for Lauren to make her toss, I’m keenly aware that the group I’m in is much smaller than the other one- and I’m the only one of my friends in this group.

“Okay,” Lauren announces. “Everyone ready? One, two… Three!” Despite myself, I feel my arm reaching upwards toward the bouquet, which bounces around many of the other women before finally coming to rest… in my hand.

“Oh come on, not fair,” one of the other women (who I think is Lauren’s cousin) moans. “You’re, like, eight inches taller than me!”

“Tough,” I reply with a smug grin as I pose for the cameras with the bouquet- though I quickly remind myself that the old superstition concerning the bouquet is just that- a superstition. I’m hardly likely to be the next woman to get married when I don’t even have a boyfriend…

With the excitement of the bouquet toss over, the tables are cleared to make way for the happy couple’s first dance, and as Michael and Lauren share a slow dance to 'One Day Like This' by Elbow, I sit to the side and watch dreamily. Within seconds, though, I’m interrupted by someone sitting down next to me- the last face I expected to see right now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Simon Clarke, my ex-boyfriend (and first ever ‘serious’ boyfriend) asks, making my eyes go wide and momentarily stunning me into silence. “…or, you know, euro for your thoughts or whatever money they use in Cyprus?”

“Umm, hi…” I say uneasily. “What- what are you even doing here today?”

“Umm, Michael’s one of my best friends?” Simon replies, gesturing to his suit, which is identical to those worn by the best man, Michael’s groomsmen and several of the other men at the reception.

“…Yeah, okay, may have forgotten that,” I mumble. “It has, you know, kinda been a while…”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Simon chuckles. “You- you look great, you really do.”

“Thanks,” I say. “You- you look good too.”

“Thanks,” Simon chuckles, triggering an awkward silence between the two of us.

“So, umm…” I mumble. “How- how are your brother and sister?”

“They’re fine,” Simon shrugs. “Ally just passed 200 thousand followers on Instagram, which she’s pretty proud of.”

“Yeah, she should be,” I chuckle. “Maybe I’ll be interviewing her again soon for the magazine?”

“Possibly,” Simon shrugs.

“Does- does Jenson still do his weird staring thing?” I ask.

“Actually, he does,” Simon replies with a chuckle. “Turns out he does that for all my girlfriends, not just you ‘cause- well, you know…”

“’Cause I’m 5’ 10”, got a male jawline and wear size 9 shoes?” I ask, smiling as Simon blushes. “It’s okay. And it’s kinda good to know Jenson wasn’t just singling me out, heh.”

“Yeah,” Simon chuckles. “He’s actually being tested for autism next month, to see if- well, yeah.”

“Yeah,” I say, triggering another awkward silence that this time is broken by my ex.

“So, umm,” Simon says. “I hear you- you’ve well… Had an operation?”

“You mean THE operation?” I ask with a smile. “Yep. Coming up to twelve months, actually.”

“Cool,” Simon says. “And is- is it-“

“It’s fine, really,” I say, my smile widening. “It’s just, you know, part of my body, flesh and blood. The funny thing is, I didn’t really realise how much I needed, well, ‘it’ until after the operation. Now it- it’s like it, well, it’s always been a part of me- umm…” My voice trails off as Simon’s cheeks get redder and redder.

“Umm…” Simon mumbles. “Are you- are you, you know, seeing anyone? ‘Cause I saw you catch the bouquet and, well, I kinda thought…”

“Yeah, you- you thought right,” I say. “In that I’m currently single. Are… are you seeing anyone?”

“I was, I’m not anymore,” Simon replies, smiling as the traditional wedding dances come to an end and various couples take to the dancefloor. “So, umm, do- do you want to, you know…?”

“…I’d love to,” I whisper in reply, smiling as Simon gently takes my hand and escorts me to the dancefloor, where we share a slow, intimate dance together, then another, and another, before the DJ frustrates me by announcing a fifteen-minute break, just as Simon and I were getting into a groove...

As the dancefloor empties and Simon walks off to get us both a drink, I head over to where my eight friends are gathering, including the bride, who directs a scowl in my direction as I approach.

“Umm… hi?” I say nervously, wilting under Lauren’s stare.

“Miss Hanley,” the dark-haired bride says in a voice that I can immediately tell is teasing me, “don’t you know it’s bad form to be cuter than the bride on her wedding day?”

“Oh- come on,” I say, rolling my eyes as Lauren and the others all giggle. “As if anyone could be cuter than you today, MRS Yates!”

“She’s got you there,” my flatmate (and Lauren’s maid of honour) says as the bride giggles.

“Ah, it’s true, though,” Lauren says. “About us ALL being cute, hehe!” I join in the group cheer this statement elicits.

“Are you going to take Michael’s surname, then?” Nikki asks.

“I actually dunno yet,” Lauren replies. “I mean, god knows we’ve had enough time to think about it, but it’s a big decision, you know? The name I’m going to have for the rest of my life…”

“Well, I know I’m not taking Charlie’s name if we get hitched,” Hendo says.

“Why’s that, Hendo?” Alexa asks.

“Well, for starters, it’d be awkward calling me ‘Hendo’ when my surname ain’t Henderson anymore!” The freckled girl replies, earning giggles from everyone. “Also, Charlie’s surname is ‘Hook’, and ‘Katherine Hook’ sounds too much like Peter Pan’s enemy!”

“Whereas ‘Ophelia Percival’ would be no syllables away from being a Shakespearian heroine,” my BFF says with a grin. “Hence why I kept the surname I originally chose for myself. Though if we do choose to have children, they will take their father’s name. And no, before you inevitably ask, I am NOT pregnant.”

“You guys could always double-barrel?” Sarah suggests, though this suggestion still makes Lauren frown.

“Then I’ve got the problem of whether to be ‘Burnett-Yates’ or ‘Yates-Burnett’,” the bride says. “It’s a silly thing, but I’m so used to being at the start of the alphabet that going straight to the end of it would take some getting used to, heh.”

“…Burnett-Yates it is, then!” Nikki says, making Lauren sigh and shake her head.

“Easy for you guys,” Lauren says. “P and T are close to each other, so are Q and T. And so are C and H, come to think of it!”

“Who are ‘C’ and ‘H’?” American Katie asks.

“Jacinta Hanley and Simon Clarke,” Hendo says, making me blush as eight pairs of eyes turn excitedly in my direction.

“I thought I recognised him!” Sarah teases. “Are you two back together, then?”

“And you actually found someone good enough for the great Jacinta Hanley?” Jenny teases. Yeah, ‘cause high standards have always been my problem in the past, I think to myself.

“…He’s one of Michael’s friends,” I explain. “And yes, we dated in the past, but no, we’re not back together, I only just found out that he was here.”

“So ‘only just found out’ equals ‘let’s have not one slow dance but three’, then?” Nikki teases, making me roll my eyes.

“I was just saying ‘hi’,” I reply.

“So what would you have done if you wanted to say, ‘it’s great to see you again’?” Hendo asks, laughing as I pick up a pile of confetti and hurl it at her.

“Why are we talking about my so-called love life when we should be celebrating Mrs. or Ms. Burnett-Yates-Burnett-Whatever?” I ask, smirking as Lauren blushes and rolls her eyes.

“Yours is more interesting, for starters,” Nikki teases, giggling as I scoff. “No offence, Lauren.”

“Oh, none taken, I definitely agree with you!” Lauren says, making me sigh. “Maybe I should tell Jexy and Katie about Phil…”

“If you do, I swear I’m going to shove-“ I say, grabbing a handful of confetti only to be interrupted by a manly cough from behind us.

“Excuse me,” Michael says with a grin as he extends his hand to his new wife. “May I have the honour of the next dance, Mrs. Yates?” Needless to say, the mention of ‘Mrs. Yates’ earns good-natured jeers from the other eight of us.

“I’ll explain THAT later,” Lauren giggles as she smooths her elegant strapless gown (a Sarah and Ophelia creation, naturally) and follows her husband back to the floor, followed closely by Nikki & Sarah and Alexa & Jenny. Shortly afterward, the two Katies’ partners arrive to escort them back to the dancefloor, and when Telemachus shows up a short while later, I brace myself to be alone, but much to my surprise, Telemachus instead sits down and hands me and his wife a drink each.

“A young man at the bar asked me to give this to you,” Telemachus says, handing me a fancy-looking cocktail.

“Ah- yes,” I say. “Kinda forgot that Simon said he was going to get me a drink, heh.”

“Well, he at least did not forget,” Ophelia says. “But- but in all seriousness, J, are you planning on resuming your relationship with him?”

“I- I don’t know,” I sigh. “I mean, he IS single, and he DID ask… Well, okay, he asked me to dance, not go on a date with him, but, you know, it is kinda, you know, implied a bit?”

“He would be a fool if he had not asked,” Ophelia says, making me smile.

“Question is, would I be a fool for accepting?” I muse.

“If I may enquire,” Telemachus says, “what was the reason for your separation? Feel free not to answer if the reasons are personal.”

“No, no it’s okay,” I sigh. “I mean, we had fun, but, well, he- ultimately, he just wasn’t, you know, ‘Prince Charming’.”

“Finding her fairytale prince has been a lifelong obsession of hers,” Ophelia explains to her husband as I roll my eyes.

“I fail to see any reason why there should not be a fairytale prince for Jacinta,” Telemachus says with a smile. “After all, I was able to find my fairytale princess.” I smile as the young couple share a tender kiss, though inside, my mind is racing. Was I too hasty in writing off Simon as ‘Prince Charming’? He’s definitely older now, more mature, sexier than he was before… Maybe he was ‘the one’ after all, but we were both too young first time around? All I know for certain is that I won’t be able to answer that particular question while I’m sat with Ophelia and Telemachus, so I finish my drink, make my excuses and head around the side of the dancefloor to the bar, where Simon was last seen. However, en route to the bar, I glance at the dancefloor, where I see Simon dancing… with another woman.

My anger levels instantly rise, especially as I see the smiles on their faces, and every instinct tells me to storm onto the dancefloor and confront Simon in front of everyone… but rationally, I know that’s the last thing I should do. Firstly, we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. We were, and we may well be again, but right now, we’re not. Secondly, they’re only dancing, it’s not like they’re kissing or anything, and it’s not like I haven’t danced with other guys myself today. And thirdly, most importantly, it wouldn’t be fair to Lauren for me to make a big scene on her wedding day. I most definitely am going to talk to Simon about it, though- and if anything, I’m almost pleased that I’m angry- if I didn’t really like Simon, I wouldn’t be bothered about him dancing with another woman, after all.

I make my way to the bar and order a drink before carefully parking myself on one of the seats (remembering the little ‘accident’ I had at Charlotte’s house that one time), observing the packed dance floor with a smile. It isn’t long before the current song ends, the DJ announces another break and the dance floor clears. I try to suppress my smile as Simon makes his way over to me, though the fact that he’s already looking guilty does allow some of my mirth to seep through.

“Who was that?” I ask, giggling involuntarily as Simon fidgets.

“She- umm, just a friend, one of Michael’s-“ Simon stammers, before sighing as I finally burst out laughing. “…Very funny. We’re not even back together yet and already you’re taking the piss out of me?”

“We’re girls, we’re allowed to take the piss out of guys for our own amusement whether we’re going out with them or not,” I explain.

“The things we poor men go through…” Simon says with an overdramatic sigh as he sits down next to me.

“You poor BOYS, more like,” I tease. “It’s okay. I’ll let you off this time, hehe!”

“Thanks,” Simon chuckles. “So, umm, when are you flying back?”

“Monday,” I reply. “Though I’m not back at work until Wednesday.”

“Same here,” Simon says. “Probably same flight, heh.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Are- are you still working at the cinema?”

“Yep,” Simon replies. “It was pretty mental when Endgame came out, we were doing, like, 4am screenings for it, and even they were packed!”

“Did you get to wear a spandex Captain America costume?” I tease.

“Nah, I wore the Star-Lord costume I wore when Guardians 2 came out,” Simon replies. “Not really got the body for Captain America, heh.”

“Oh, I dunno,” I purr. “I seem to remember it was pretty good…” I grin widely as Simon chuckles and nervously licks his lips…

Needless to say, when I wake up the following morning, I’m not in my own bed, and the tingles I'm feeling throughout my body tell me I had a LOT of fun last night. However, when I look around, I find myself alone in bed, making me frown with confusion. I run on the assumption that he’ll at least have sent me a text or a Facebook message explaining where he is, only to remember that I left my phone in my room last night, along with my handbag… and my room key. Thankfully, as twelve months have passed since my operation, I don’t need to dilate every morning (and what Simon and I did last night ‘counts’ anyway), but I DO need my purse, and a change of clothes, and most definitely a change of underwear as well…

I grimace as I scoop the thong I wore yesterday off of the hotel floor before pulling the fancy dress and shoes I wore yesterday back on. I’m going to need to head down to reception to get a spare key and hopefully not run into anyone I know along the way, so I won’t have to explain why I’m holding my underwear in my hand…

En route to reception, however, I have a brainwave- all I need to do is hide my thong in one of the many plants dotted throughout the hotel, then retrieve it once I’ve got access to my room. Genius! It doesn’t take me any time to locate a plant that’s out of the way, and I carefully stuff the offending article out of sight, and when I turn round, I find myself staring straight into the eyes of my newly married American friends.

“Hi Jacinta,” Katie says in an uncertain voice. “What- what are you doing…?”

“Oh- umm, nothing!” I say hastily, moving so as to block my discarded underwear from view. “Just, umm, just, kinda, you know, lost my room key…”

“…In a plant?” Danny (Katie’s husband) asks.

“…Maybe,” I say as I start to fidget uncomfortably. “I, umm, I definitely had it last night…”

“Is- is that it?” Danny asks, pointing to the tiny scrap of fabric visible behind the plant.

“Umm, no, no, it- it’s a different, umm, colour,” I say hastily, trying to prevent my eyes from widening as I realise my hiding spot wasn’t quite as good as I’d hoped. “I- I’m on my way to reception to, you know, get a spare…”

“Well- okay then,” Katie says with a shrug. “Will we be seeing you at breakfast?”

“Sure,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief as the couple head off toward the hotel restaurant.

Thankfully, I’m able to get to reception without any further incident, and after they let me into my room, I take a quick shower before changing into clean underwear and a loose summer dress. After I’m dressed, I check my phone, where there is, as expected, a barrage of social media notifications relating to the wedding, but no message from Simon. I let out a sigh as I head down to the restaurant, which is already pretty full, but there’s no sign of Simon here either. After grabbing a light breakfast of summer fruits I head to where my BFF and my flatmate are sat with their other halves and try my hardest to pretend that nothing happened last night- not easy when I get close enough to the table to hear their conversation.

“…Kid found- get this- a THONG behind one of the plants,” Hendo says as I try desperately not to cringe or blush. “The parents were playing hell at reception! I wouldn’t want to be the person who has to claim THAT from the lost & found!” Nor would I, which is why I’m not going to, I think to myself. That was one of my favourite thongs, too…

“Somebody clearly had an exciting night, then,” Ophelia says, before directing a knowing smirk in my direction.

“Clearly, yes,” I say hastily. “So, umm, are- are the bride and groom down yet? Speaking of, well, ‘exciting nights’ and all that…”

“I think they’ll be a while,” Hendo says with a playful wink, making me roll my eyes as I take a sip of my drink. “As will Simon…” Despite myself, I still nearly cough up half a glass of orange juice at the mention of my ex (and maybe future) boyfriend’s name. “…Something wrong, Jacinta?”

“No,” I lie. “Why- why did you mention Simon’s name?”

“Same reason you nearly choked on your drink,” Hendo replies with a smug grin. “People did kinda notice you two leaving the reception together…”

“We- we were just, you know, catching up, that’s all,” I half-lie. “Anyway, when did Lauren and Michael leave the reception?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Hendo protests, smirking as I roll my eyes. “So… Are you two definitely back together, then?”

“No,” I reply firmly. “Well- not yet, anyway…” My cheeks turn red as my four friends all grin and playfully jeer me. “Like I said, we were just catching up, that’s all. I didn’t even know he was going to be here today.”

“Yeah, of course you didn’t,” Hendo teases. “Not like he’s one of Michael’s best friends, or anything…” Thankfully, my blushes are spared at this point by a round of applause that I eagerly join in- not to herald the arrival of the happy couple, but two other happy couples that hopefully will act like a lightning rod to any further teasing.

“Oh- shut up,” Sarah protests as she, her wife, Alexa and Jenny walk through the packed restaurant. “This time, we KNOW we didn’t do anything last night.”

“Yeah, but it’s tradition now,” Hendo retorts with a smug grin, before turning back to me. “Will you and your exes be a new wedding tradition, too?”

“…It’s literally happened ONE time,” I reply. “And seriously, why all the interest in my love life, anyway?”

“Because we want you to be happy,” my BFF replies. “As happy as we are. You deserve nothing less.”

“…Thanks,” I mumble, my cheeks somehow reddening even further.

“And when you’re happy, you get mercilessly teased too,” Hendo says, her grin widening. “And speaking of…” This time, everyone, myself included, rises to their feet to applaud the arrival of the two newlyweds, who enter the restaurant hand-in-hand and looking at each other with pure love in their eyes. Try as I might, I can’t quite picture Simon looking at me the same way Michael looks at Lauren. I can’t picture ANY boy looking at me the same way…

“Thanks, everyone!” Lauren says with a grin as she and Michael get their breakfasts before sitting at a table by themselves.

“…So,” I say in what will inevitably be another vain attempt to change the topic, “what are everyone’s plans for the day? Beach, then more beach, then packing for tomorrow’s flight?”

“Sounds about right,” Charlie (Hendo’s boyfriend) replies.

“We may look at some of the local shops, later in the afternoon,” Ophelia (who isn’t a big fan of the heat, and that's putting it mildly) says. “You would be more than welcome to come along with us if you want, Jacinta.”

“Assuming you’re not ‘otherwise occupied’ with Simon…” Hendo teases, before giggling as I toss a packet of sugar at her face.

“…Haven’t even heard from him since last night,” I mumble, finally giving up on denying what happened last night. “He hasn’t texted me or anything.”

“Hardly gentlemanly behaviour,” Telemachus criticises.

“Meh, it is what it is, I guess,” I shrug. “Whatever that means, anyway…”

“It means that if he’s serious about getting back together with you, he needs to up his game,” Hendo says sternly.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if he IS serious, that’s the thing,” I sigh. It wouldn’t be my first one-time fling at a wedding, after all- though I am forced to concede that Hendo is correct. If Simon does want to get back together with me, doing a bunk the night after sleeping with me really isn’t the best way to go about it. And yet, it’s not a deal breaker- far from it, in fact…

Thankfully, the topic of conversation quickly moves on to yesterday’s wedding, and both Simon and what passes for my love life are quickly forgotten about as we finish our breakfasts and head back to our rooms, where I exchange my dress for a very scanty dark turquoise bikini, a long, floaty beach cover-up and a pair of flip-flops. After touching up my make-up, I check my phone again, only to discover there’s STILL no message from Simon. After letting out a long sigh, I head down to reception, where many of my friends are already waiting in their swimwear- and, much to my surprise, so is the young man I spent last night with. Unsurprisingly, most of the eyes in the crowd turn toward me and Simon as we head out of the hotel and toward the beach, though I have no intention of putting on a show for my friends- nor do I have any intention of speaking to Simon until he apologises for this morning.

Once we reach the beach, I set out my towel near Hendo and Charlie, making a point of placing it as far away from Simon and his friends as possible, though it isn’t ten minutes before the bespectacled young man approaches me anyway.

“H- hi,” Simon says nervously.

“Hi,” I reply stoically, not looking at Simon as he sits down next to me on the sand.

“Yeah…” Simon grimaces. “Sorry about ducking out this morning, but I always go for a run in the morning, and when I got back you were already gone and- well, yeah.”

“You could’ve texted me,” I pout.

“I, umm, I kinda- kinda don’t have roaming on my phone…” Simon mumbles. “I mean, yes, I could’ve texted you, but it’d have cost, like, £50…”

“…Okay, you’re forgiven about not texting me,” I say, a smile slowly creeping back to my face. “But going out for a run? How did you have the energy after last night?” I grin as Simon chuckles bashfully at the memory of last night’s ‘workout’.

“Yeah…” Simon says with a grimace as he slides closer to me. “I- I don’t know what I was expecting, really, but- but it was definitely different from the last time we- well, yeah…”

“Different better, or different worse?” I ask.

“…Different, well, ‘different’,” Simon replies. “I mean, it- it’s not a case of ‘better’ or ‘worse’, as both, well, ‘ways’ are great, you know?”

“Glad to hear it,” I chuckle.

“I’m guessing, probably, you know, it- it was different for you?” Simon asks hesitantly, smiling as I nod. “Duh, stupid question…”

“Meh, I get that it’s hard for a lot of people to wrap their head around it,” I shrug. “Well- metaphorically speaking, anyway.”

“It- it really is no different from, you know, any other woman…” Simon says, before trailing off and mumbling as he looks away from me.

“…What?” I ask. “I do take that as a compliment, you know, and well, I’m okay with the fact that you’ve had other girlfriends, heh!”

“Well- okay…” Simon chuckles nervously. “It’s just, you know, talking about other girls while you’re trying to ask a girl out is, well, kinda not great, you know?”

“So… Are- are you asking me out?” I ask.

“If you- if you want to go out with me again, well, sure, I guess…” Simon says, grimacing as I frown. “I mean- I mean yes, yes I am definitely asking you out.” I smile as Simon's confidence visibly increases, but I immediately frown again as I realise that the question won’t be as easy to answer as it apparently was to ask.

“I- I’ll need some time to think about it,” I say, smiling sympathetically as Simon sighs. “That’s not a definite ‘no’. I just- I do kinda remember why we broke up, you know? And yes, both of us are different people now than we were then- obviously, I don’t just mean physically- but, well…”

“Can- can you let me know when you’ll, you know, decide?” Simon asks, clearly deflated by my not immediately saying ‘yes’.

“It’ll be soon, I promise,” I whisper, smiling as Simon sighs, before smiling sadly and giving me a gentle kiss before heading back to his friends. I let out a sigh of my own as I lay back on my beach towel and try to soak up the sun’s rays- Simon’s offer is tempting, he’s undoubtedly a different person to the boy I dated nearly three years ago, but the question I’m unable to answer is the big one- is he Prince Charming?

I’d always assumed, almost certainly wrongly, that I’d recognise ‘Prince Charming’ the second I set eyes on him, that it’d be love at first sight, just as in all the (usually terrible) romance films I’ve watched over the years. During my relationship with Simon, it gradually became clearer and clearer that he wasn’t ‘the one’. In all the time that’s passed, there’s nothing to say for certain that anything’s changed. Well, apart from myself. And Simon, for that matter. We’re both very different people than we were in 2016. Maybe this time round, he WILL be Prince Charming. Is it possible that I’ve already met Prince Charming, but I just didn’t realise it?

We stay on the beach until mid-afternoon, when the heat begins to get the better of us and we head to the shelter of the hotel bar. Both on the beach and at the bar, Simon and I keep our distance from each other, though I do notice his occasional glances over to me as if to ask, ‘have you decided yet?’. And each time my eyes meet his, I avert my gaze, replying to his question with an implied ‘not yet’.

With an early flight tomorrow, none of us stay up late, instead choosing to spend the evening packing and catching up on our sleep (with me sleeping in my own bed tonight). The following morning, a chartered bus arrives to transport all of us (apart from Lauren, Michael and their families, who are staying on a little longer) to the airport. After bidding farewell to Katie and Danny (who are returning to Venice for the rest of their honeymoon), the rest of us tiredly check in to our flight to London, and we’re soon in the air, heading westward toward home. Once the ‘fasten seatbelts’ light goes out, I take the opportunity to get out of my seat and stretch my legs, but mostly to chat to anyone other than the six-year-old boy I somehow found myself sat next to. Obviously, most of the passengers today were sat with their significant others, and as I don’t have an ‘other’, significant or otherwise, I kinda drew the short straw with the seating arrangements. Fortunately, there are spaces on the plane where I can ‘perch’ to talk to my friends- those who aren’t busy cuddling up next to each other, anyway.

“Hey, miss ‘Experienced Traveller’!” I tease my BFF, who lets out a mock sigh and shakes her head, before a warm smile spreads across her immaculately made-up face.

“Hello to you too, Jacinta,” Ophelia replies. “And to answer your next question, he is even less fond of flying than I am, so has taken an anti-nausea pill that has had a side effect.” I smile sympathetically as I glance across Ophelia to where her husband is uncharacteristically slumped in his chair, sleeping the flight away.

“Your next couples retreat will be where, then?” I tease. “Croydon? Birmingham, maybe? Ah- no, wait, he-“

“Telemachus was born and grew up not far from Birmingham,” Ophelia reminds me. “He is even less eager to return to the city where he grew up than I would be to return to the house where I grew up.”

“Assuming it hasn’t been condemned,” I snort, earning a chuckle from my BFF. “Have you spoken to any of them recently? Your real family, I mean.”

“…Well, yes,” Ophelia replies. “I’m speaking to my REAL sister right now.” I sigh and wipe a tear away from my eye as Ophelia has a quiet giggle at my expense.

“You know what I mean,” I say. “Your biological family.”

“I don’t care about biology,” Ophelia says dismissively. “My so-called ‘mother’ could have died last year for all I care. The same applies for my sisters.”

“What about your nieces and nephews?” I ask softly, earning a frown from my BFF.

“…I pity them,” Ophelia replies quietly. “Especially- especially if they turn out to be like me.”

“What, awesome?” I ask, earning a sad smile.

“Unsuited to living with people like my sis- like Charlene, Kylie, Sharon or Candice,” Ophelia replies. “Perhaps I am being paranoid. It is something I have not thought about in many months, so why- why are you bringing it up now?”

“Umm, you did,” I remind my BFF, who frowns. "When you talked about the place where you grew up."

“…Perhaps I have been thinking about it more than I care to admit,” Ophelia sighs. “I have been thinking a lot lately about closure, as though one chapter of my life is about to come to an end while another is just beginning.”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling the same way,” I confess. “Running into Simon kinda hammered it home a bit, heh.”

“I can only imagine,” Ophelia says softly. “And shall you and Simon be resuming your relationship? I did see you conversing with him on the beach yesterday.”

“I- I don’t know yet,” I confess. “Maybe… I- I just need more time to think about it.”

“Well, I am sure you will make the right decision,” Ophelia says.

“More than can be said for me,” I sigh as Telemachus slowly stirs. “Good nap, Telemachus?”

“It was certainly preferable to being awake on an aeroplane,” Telemachus complains, before smiling as his wife turns her attention toward him. I take this as my cue to wander away, briefly glancing to the back of the plane where Simon is sat along with many of Michael’s (and, I suppose, his) other friends. With a sigh, I walk in the opposite direction, quickly stumbling across more friends who can hopefully distract me from my dilemma.

“Hey girlies!” I say as I sit down opposite the group of young women who have quickly become known to the rest of us as the ‘fearsome foursome’. “Good holiday so far?”

“’So far’?” Nikki protests. “I’m back at work tomorrow! It was a miracle I was able to get time off for the wedding, this close to AngelCon…”

“We would’ve loved to go to the beach with you guys tomorrow if we hadn’t been busy,” Sarah says, making me frown in confusion.

“Wait, do- do you have a job now?” I ask. “You kept THAT quiet…”

“No, I don’t start until next month,” Sarah replies. “But I’m not going ANYWHERE without Nikki.”

“D’aww,” Nikki sighs as she exchanges a gentle kiss with her wife, which naturally prompts Alexa and Jenny to share a kiss of their own.

“Urgh,” I say, making a pretend retching noise that earns playful jeers from my four friends. Thankfully, them being this preoccupied with each other means they at least don’t ask me about Simon…

“So, it looks like you’ll have to babysit Jexy tomorrow,” Sarah says, earning fake laughs from our American friends and real ones from myself and Nikki.

“We don’t need ‘babysitting’,” Jenny petulantly pouts. “Though it would be nice to be shown the city by someone who grew up there.”

“It’d be my pleasure, really,” I chuckle. “There’s quite a few others coming down tomorrow as well, kinda a ‘rest day’ before the madness that will be AngelCon. Well, it’s a rest day for some of us, anyway!” Alexa, Jenny, Sarah and I all giggle as Nikki sulks. “All you really need to see is the beach, anyway. Though they probably won’t be a patch on the ones we just left!”

“Cyprus was really cool,” Alexa giggles. “It’s funny, you know? I always thought it’d be like a middle east country, same-sex couples like us would be, you know…”

“Yeah, but Cyprus is still an EU country,” Sarah says, before pushing the overhead call button. “And all this- well, ANY talk of politics makes me want a drink.”

“Natalie will be there tomorrow if you REALLY want to talk politics,” I giggle. “Though I think her wife’s set up a ‘Boris box’ just in case he does become the next PM, heh. But, like Sarah says, that’s MORE than enough politics!”

“Damn right!” Jenny giggles as Sarah orders drinks for all of us from the flight attendant. “When are you back at work, Jacinta?”

“Wednesday,” I reply. “Nikki very kindly got me backstage access to AngelCon, which my magazine is REALLY excited about, so I’ve got a lot of prep work to do.”

“Well we definitely look forward to reading it!” Alexa says with a warm grin, reminding me that thanks in part to me, our magazine has international subscribers- something both Terri and our publishers are very appreciative of.

“Though I’m surprised you still work there,” Jenny says in a teasing voice. “What with being the daughter of a millionaire and all…”

“Oh- really?” I sigh. “From you of all people?” I smirk as Jenny pouts, before giggling and sighing as the rest of our friends also laugh.

“…Touché,” Jenny concedes.

“In fairness, though, I do love my job,” I admit. “Though life is a little easier with no student loan repayments, heh!”

“I can imagine,” Sarah giggles.

“So, when are you two flying back to America?” I ask.

“A week today,” Alexa replies. “After AngelCon.”

“You’re not sick of us already, are you?” Jenny asks with a mock pout that I immediately see through.

“On the contrary,” I giggle. “The more time I get to spend with you guys, the better!”

“Well, you’re always welcome to come over anytime you want,” Alexa says with a warm, friendly smile. “These two are coming over for Thanksgiving again, and we always have plenty of space.”

“You mean there’s a house large enough for the four of you?” I tease, giggling as I earn fake, sarcastic laughs from my friends. “Seriously though, I’d love to, but I-“ …Don’t want to feel like even more of a fifth wheel than I am right now. Or seventh, ninth or any other odd number you want to count to… “…I’ll think about it.”

“Well, you’ve got four months to make up your mind,” Alexa says. “We’ll save a space for you just in case.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, smiling as the two couples turn back toward each other, which I take as my hint to make my way back to my seat. Fortunately, when I arrive, I find my ‘travelling companion’ fast asleep, and I take care not to wake him as I fasten myself back in my seat and try to get comfortable for the rest of the flight.

Even though Cyprus is technically in Europe, it’s about as far from the UK as it's possible to get, meaning it’s another four and a bit hours before we finally arrive back in London, by which point all of us are tired from our journey (and Telemachus is looking more than a little queasy). Our large group starts to split apart as we get taxis back to our homes, though with Katie staying overnight at Charlie’s house today, I find myself hitching a ride in Ophelia and Telemachus’s taxi for two reasons- first, their flat is less than half a mile from mine, so we can split the cost of the taxi, and secondly, I only plan to stay in my flat for a few minutes. And even that's only to pick up the post and drop off my dirty laundry, before repacking my travel case with clean clothes, underwear and a selection of bikinis and swimsuits. Once I’m packed, I swap out the SIM card in my phone for my usual British one, and when I switch my phone back on, I’m unsurprised to find a voicemail waiting for me from my father. Without even listening to it (as I already know what it’ll say), I hit the button to return the call, which is answered within two rings.

“Hi Jacinta,” dad says. “Back in one piece, then?”

“Well, a very tanned piece, but yeah,” I reply.

“Glad to hear it,” dad chuckles. “How was the wedding?”

“Beautiful,” I reply. “Same as Danny and Katie’s, or any of the other dozens of weddings I’ve been to in the last few months.”

“Well, I’m sure yours will be the most beautiful of the lot,” dad reassures me, though I’m far from convinced.

“Yeah, well, unless I marry myself…” I snort. “Meh. Anyway, we’re going to be getting on the train in a bit, so we should be with you soon.”

“Okay,” dad says. “I’ll get the kettle on ready for when you guys get here. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your holiday, you’ve really worked hard this year.”

“Yeah, well, the hardest work is going to be this weekend coming,” I chuckle. “I would’ve preferred a holiday AFTER that, but I’m okay working around my friends under the circumstances, heh.”

“Yeah,” dad chuckles. “I’ll see you in a bit, Jacinta.”

“See you,” I whisper, before hanging up the call and sighing.

A few minutes later, the sound of a car horn comes from outside, and I exit my flat with my travel suitcase to find my BFF and her husband waiting in the back of a taxi with their stylish travel cases.

“Hey guys,” I say as I fasten my seatbelt and the taxi whisks us away toward Victoria station. “Everything okay at home?”

“Everything was as we had left it,” Ophelia replies with a smile.

“And is everything okay inside there?” I ask, pointing at my BFF’s husband’s stomach.

“Everything is much more settled now that I am back on solid ground,” Telemachus replies in a tired-sounding voice that betrays just how much he hates air travel. “Though I confess I do wish that we had more time to ourselves before heading out again.”

“Well, you’ve got the whole summer ahead of you,” I reply. “When Ophelia isn’t working on her next award-winning designs, anyway!” I giggle and Telemachus allows himself a sly smirk as my BFF starts to blush.

“…I have yet to win any awards, as you are well aware,” Ophelia mumbles.

“Except for at the end of university, when you took home a very large cash prize for your end of course fashion show,” I remind my BFF.

“And the photographs you uploaded to Instagram of Andromeda received a combined total of over sixty thousand likes,” Telemachus says. “Assuming, of course, that you view acceptance and adoration as a prize?”

“Which you are very aware that I do,” Ophelia says with a smirk. “And they were certainly sixty thousand more than I thought I would receive on this day five years ago.”

“Is there a particular significance to this date in 2014?” Telemachus asks.

“None whatsoever,” Ophelia replies. “I was still living with my mother and younger sister on that date. Which is why it bears no significance to me.”

“I understand entirely,” Telemachus says. “But I do wish sometimes that your so-called mother could see you now, if only so you can show her the happiness and success that you have earned since leaving that house.”

“She would show no interest,” Ophelia snorts. “She would show no remorse for my upbringing nor pride at my success. All that would interest her would be any money I have, which she would attempt to steal from me for alcohol or cigarettes.”

“I can vouch for that,” I mumble. “You really are better off not knowing them.”

“I still have difficulty believing that such people could be kin to such a precious soul,” Telemachus says, linking his fingers with his wife’s and immediately bringing a smile to her face.

“We do not choose our biological families,” Ophelia muses. “Only our real ones.” I bite my lip to keep myself from silently crying as Ophelia looks deep into my eyes with a wide smile on her immaculately made-up face.

We arrive at the station minutes later, and after a short wait, we’re on the train heading south toward the town of my birth. When we arrive at Brighton station just over an hour later, both Ophelia and I let out tired sighs when we see my father waiting for us in the concourse holding a piece of cardboard with the names ‘Hanley/Love/Percival’ written on it in Sharpie.

“…Really?” I ask, earning a wide grin from the older man as he takes mine and Ophelia’s cases and leads us to the station car park.

“Well, if you won’t let me drive you down here,” dad retorts with a smug grin. “And it’s not like I’ve got much else on my plate right now, heh.”

“Okay, fine,” I sigh. “Is everything in the house packed up yet?”

“Not quite,” dad replies. “Just the personal things, my books, my computers… I’m thinking of leaving the furniture, though, for when I rent it out.”

“So are you no longer planning on selling the house, Mike?” Telemachus asks.

“Nah, too many memories,” dad replies. “So I figure I’ll rent it out. Besides, it’s not like I need a big cash lump sum right now!”

“No, I can tell,” I say as dad leads us out to his car- not his old car, but rather a four months old four door Mercedes-Benz coupe. “When- when you were packing your things, did- was, umm, was mum’s- mum…”

“Something like that doesn’t belong in a box,” dad whispers, taking a deep breath to compose himself before forcing a grin on his face. “So, anyway, let’s get your cases loaded, then you can tell me all about Cyprus! I’ve never been there before, and you all look nice and tanned- even you, Ophelia!”

“I thought that for once, I might follow along with the crowd,” my BFF replies. “But only because I deeply care about this particular crowd.”

“We’ll get you bowing to peer pressure soon enough,” I tease as I lower myself onto the passenger seat of dad’s car, while Ophelia and Telemachus slide onto the back seat.

“Don’t you dare,” dad chastises. “Don’t ever change who you are, Ophelia. You’ve worked too long and too hard to be the person you were meant to be. All three of you have.”

“…Thanks,” I whisper as we head home.

Even after living mostly away from home for four years, the second I walk through the front door it’s like I’ve never been away. I drop my bag in the usual spot in the hall, head through to the kitchen to make a drink, finding my favourite glass in its usual spot in the cupboard, before heading through to the living room and sitting in my usual spot on the sofa and smiling sadly as I see mum’s urn in its usual spot in pride of place on the fireplace. Of course, as I’m reminded when I sit down, I’M a very different person than I was when I last lived here, mostly in a physical sense but emotionally as well. I can’t help but feel a sense that a major chapter of my life is about to come to an end, and a new one is about to begin, and whether that new chapter will be better or worse, I can’t say. Of course, this could easily be down to the fact that tonight will be the last time I sleep overnight in this house for a very, very long time…

“Can I make you all something to eat?” Dad asks. “Or shall we get a Deliveroo tonight? My treat, of course.”

“Oh- we can pay for our own meals, seriously,” I say.

“Well, yeah, but I have more money than you,” dad reminds me, smiling as I sigh defeatedly. “And you’ve spent virtually all day on planes, trains and automobiles so you must be knackered, so you three just sit back and relax, I’ll get us all some dinner then we can relax and watch a movie tonight, how does that sound?”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you Mike,” Ophelia says as she elegantly lowers herself onto the sofa next to me.

“Suck up,” I whisper, making my BFF giggle. “And let me guess- does this movie we’re going to watch star Steve Martin and John Candy by any chance?”

“Good guess!” Dad says as he plucks the DVD off of the shelf. “You three get comfortable and take some weight off your feet, I’ve done nothing all day, so let me wait on you, okay?”

“That would be perfect, thank you,” Ophelia says politely, before turning to her husband. “When I lived here before, Mike would often entertain us in the evening with movies he enjoyed when he was younger, usually made in the 1980s.”

“…I have actually seen Planes, Trains and Automobiles before,” Telemachus confesses with a smile. “My father was as enthusiastic about old movies as Mike. Movie night in the house where I grew up constitutes many of the few positive memories I had of my childhood, as it was one of the few times when my siblings would not bully me.”

“Well, at least you know your sister-in-law isn’t going to bully you today, or ever,” I say with a smile.

“Indeed,” Ophelia confirms. “Not your biological sister-in-law, but your REAL sister-in-law.”

“I sometimes forget just how genuine the love is between the two of you,” Telemachus says with a happy grin.

“I do not,” Ophelia says as she gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “I Just wish I had had the chance to know Jacinta from an earlier age.”

“I wish I had had the chance to BE Jacinta from an earlier age,” I sigh. “But there’s no sense in dwelling on that, I suppose.”

“We three have all earned our happy endings,” Ophelia says confidently, even as I’m left wondering how any ending can be ‘happy’ when it doesn’t involve a ‘Prince Charming’- unless Simon is the one I’ve been looking for this whole time…

Nonetheless, the rest of the evening is spent relaxing, watching the movie and filling in dad on our holiday, sharing photos and videos of the holiday and relating some of the funnier stories- though I decide not to mention how my thong ended up in the hotel's lost and found. I also decide not to mention my run-in with Simon, either... All three of us are tired following our long journey, and with all of us still operating on Cyprus time, we head to bed shortly after 10pm (which is just after midnight according to our body clocks). As such, I wake up just after 7am the following morning, and judging by the sound coming from downstairs, I’m not the first in the house to wake up.

“Good morning, Jacinta,” Ophelia says as I head into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. Unusually, even though it is 7am, Ophelia isn’t already dressed and made-up but is instead clad only in her summer nightwear of a long, delicate (and, obviously, home-made) satin nightgown, and Telemachus is wearing a very uncharacteristic pair of lounge pants and a plain white t-shirt.

“Morning,” I reply. “You two are up early, didn’t fancy a lie-in, then?” I smirk as this question, as always, elicits bashful grins from my two friends.

“It would not be proper when we are guests in this house,” Ophelia replies.

“Oh please,” I snort. “You’re no more a guest than I am.”

“True,” dad says as he enters the kitchen in his dressing gown and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Heard you moving about downstairs and figured you’d all be up by now even if it is only 7 o’clock and people your age shouldn’t be up for another five hours, heh!”

“I personally blame the time difference between here and Cyprus,” Ophelia retorts.

“Though this way we also get to show our friends as much of Brighton as possible,” I say. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to this, heh!”

“Your friends came down last summer, didn’t they?” Dad asks.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t quite as, well, ‘mobile’ then,” I say, grimacing as an awkward silence fills the room as everyone remembers the reason why I wasn’t ‘mobile’ last year, specifically the same reason I didn’t need to ‘tuck’ anything when I sat down at the kitchen table.

“…Well, you are now, so might as well make the most of it!” Dad chuckles. “I’m going to be in most of the day if you want to drop back at any point, like for lunch or anything.”

“Thanks, we should be okay though,” I say.

“Any idea where you’re going first?” Dad asks.

“Beach,” I reply, earning a chuckle from the older man.

“Didn’t need to ask, did I?” Dad laughs. “Well- you three have fun, and stay safe!”

“We shall, as always,” Ophelia says with a smile.

“I’ll let you three shower first, then,” dad chuckles as we take our breakfasts through to the living room and watch television together as the family that we truly are.

Eventually, we take turns in showering before getting dressed for the day ahead. Obviously, I pull on a bikini, a short denim skirt, a loose, floaty blouse and a pair of flip-flops. Equally obviously, Telemachus opts for a stylish white button up shirt, a pair of tan-coloured trousers and a pair of very smart brown shoes that makes him look a lot older than his twenty years, but which suits him nonetheless.

Ophelia, of course, has gone all out. Rather than a bikini, she’s pulled on one of her special, customised one-piece swimsuits in black and purple that has cutout mesh panels throughout and a built-in waist cincher to keep her waistline nice and narrow. Over her swimsuit is a loose bolero jacket made of the same mesh material as the cutouts of her swimsuit, and covering her legs is a long, floaty skirt made of the same material but cut into strips that flutter wildly with every step Ophelia takes on her 4” wedge-heeled sandals. Despite most of her body being covered from the neck down (and her head being covered by a wide-brimmed sun hat), she still somehow looks beach-ready, and as always, I’m jealous that I can’t look as effortlessly feminine as Ophelia- then again, very few people can. And I know that if I asked for the same outfit, Ophelia would make one for me in a heartbeat, and make it work for me too- after all, as she’s so keen to remind me, I’m just as much a woman as she is.

“Is this ‘Beach Andromeda’?” I tease my BFF, making her grin as we leave the house.

“’Beach Andromeda’ would be far more elaborate than this,” Ophelia giggles. “Though I am eager to see what reaction this will get from the beachgoers today. Among other people…” I frown as Ophelia’s cheerful demeanour suddenly vanishes

“…O?” I ask, confused by my sister’s sudden surliness.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on the aeroplane,” Ophelia explains. “You were right in saying that this is an unexpected opportunity to obtain closure, something I never did when I left the home where I grew up.”

“W- wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I ask.

“Yes,” Ophelia says, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “I wish to go and see my mother.”

“Ophelia,” Telemachus whispers. “You have never had anything positive to say about that woman. You have cut her out of your life, which is no more than she deserves. Why put yourself through unnecessary stress now?”

“Because I need to tell her that she was wrong,” Ophelia says. “All throughout my childhood, she and my sisters mocked me for wanting more than to be the- the parasites that they are. For wanting to read, for wanting to work, for wanting to earn what they are happy to take or steal. I have earned my happiness and success through hard work. She has never earned anything in her life. She needs to know that.”

“She won’t listen to you,” I caution, making my BFF pause and hopefully reconsider her decision.

“…Then I shall speak anyway,” Ophelia says. “Whether or not she chooses to listen is her decision. But I have made up mine. May I count on your support?”

“Of course,” I reply softly. “Always.”

“You do not even need to ask whether or not I shall support you,” Telemachus says, gently liking his fingers with his wife’s.

“Thank you,” Ophelia whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “Thank you both. I do not lie when I say that I am deeply anxious about this. But I shall not change my mind.”

“Only if you’re absolutely, 100% sure,” I say softly.

“I am,” Ophelia says, taking another deep breath. “Let’s do this.” I silently nod as Ophelia and I make the short walk to her old home, though inside, I’m almost as nervous as she is. Theresa Lowe is one of the most unpleasant people I have ever had contact with in my entire life- bigoted, self-centred and entirely without empathy, despite being the so-called mother of five children. I still can’t believe that someone such as her can produce someone as amazing as Ophelia, and it’s even more baffling that Ophelia would ever want anything to do with her again- until I remember that before all else, Theresa is still Ophelia’s mother. If I had the chance to see my mother again, I would jump at the chance without any hesitation- but then again, my mother loved me. I’m not sure the same could be said of Ophelia’s mother…

A short while later, the three of us walk up the short path that leads to Ophelia’s old front door, and it’s clear from her shivering that Ophelia is terrified by the prospect of what’s coming next.

“We don’t HAVE to do this,” I say softly. “We can just turn around, and-“

“No,” Ophelia says firmly. “If I don’t do it now, I never will.”

“That might not be the worst thing,” Telemachus says.

“Just once,” Ophelia says. “I just need to do this once. Then we can go to the beach with our frie- with our REAL family.”

“Well- okay,” I say, taking a deep breath as Ophelia knocks on the door. “Be strong, O.” My BFF smiles at me as if to say thank you, before taking a deep breath as the door slowly opens and the familiar frame of her mother appears.

Even though it’s only been a few years since I last saw her, the change in her appearance is dramatic. Her hair is long, lank and unwashed and has notable grey streaks throughout. What few teeth remain in her mouth are either yellow or brown, and she’s put on at least thirty pounds since the last time I saw her. And, as always, my eyes water as she is accompanied by a cloud of body odour and cigarette smoke. Judging by the sneer on her face, Theresa doesn’t look very happy to see her daughter for the first time in four years.

“H- hello, mother,” Ophelia says politely, earning a sneer from the older woman.

“What d’you want?” Theresa spits in her crude, unrefined accent.

“I am in Brighton for the day and wished to visit to see how you were,” Ophelia replies.

“And why you still talk like a knob?” Theresa asks with a mean snort of laughter, before scowling as she sees me stood on her doorstep. “And why you brung that tranny to my house!?”

“SHE is my best friend,” Ophelia replies firmly. “It is a pity you are too blind and close-minded to recognise HER as the WOMAN she is. And this gentleman is my husband. Telemachus, meet my mother. Mother, this is Telemachus, your son-in-law.”

“Em-pem-acuss?” Theresa says with a snort of evil laughter. “What kind of name’s em-pem-acuss? And who’d ever want to marry you?”

“Infinitely more men than would ever want to marry you,” Telemachus answers, earning an angry sneer from his mother-in-law.

“Why you not just fuck off, you fucking little rats!” Theresa yells in a loud, unashamed voice.

“Rats?” Ophelia asks, her eyes widening and her affected accent slipping as she struggles to contain her laughter. “I’ve struggled all my life to be better than I am, to be better than- than this! You NEVER cared! And thanks to my surname, nor did any of my teachers. I didn’t learn to read or write until I was ten years old thanks to you and the legacy you gave me. I was written off all throughout school and bullied at home simply for wanting to be more than a PARASITE who lets everyone else do the hard work! I am happy in my life. I have earned my happiness through hard work- MY hard work- to overcome my dyslexia, my shyness… I have a degree. I have a career I love and that I’m good at, and most importantly of all, I have people in my life who love me and who I love in return. What do you have?”

“Tch, you fucking fuh…” Theresa snorts, before angrily slamming the door in our faces. Instantly, both Telemachus and I surround Ophelia and wrap her in a tight group hug, holding her upright as the adrenaline drains from her body and she starts slowly weeping.

“You- you are amazing,” I whisper as Ophelia takes several shaky breaths to try to calm herself down. “I would never have been able to do what you just did. And everything you said was 100% true.”

“Exactly 100% true,” Telemachus says, allowing his own affected accent to slip and his natural Black Country voice to seep through for the first time in all the time that I've known him. “And I- I think I owe you an apology. Previously, I- I had not entirely believed some of the things you had said about your childhood. Now I do.”

“You do not need to apologise,” Ophelia said, smiling as her husband gently wraps an arm around her waist. “You have both shown me more love in the last 60 seconds than that woman did during the first eighteen years of my life. You are both my REAL family, and you always have been. As have Katie, Lauren, Nikki, Sarah- everyone. Families are built on love, not DNA.”

“Well that’s appropriate,” I say. “As your name literally is ‘Love’, so both of our families are built on you.”

“I- I did not intend that,” Ophelia says with a bashful chuckle.

“It is nonetheless true,” Telemachus says. “I cannot imagine a single minute without you. Or without my true sister-in-law.”

“Aww, thanks, bro-in-law!” I say, giggling as I give Telemachus a gentle hug that makes both him and Ophelia smile happily. “Sooo… what do you want to do now?”

“I want to go to the beach,” Ophelia replies determinedly. “I want to relax, read my Kindle, and have fun with my family. My REAL family. And I want to forget all about Theresa Fucking Lowe.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I say. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say fuck?”

“It shall also be the last,” Ophelia says with a grin. “I reason that if I am entitled to say that once during my lifetime, that was the most appropriate occasion on which to say it.”

“No arguments from me,” I giggle as we head to the nearest bus stop to take us south toward the coast.

Unsurprisingly, when we arrive at the beach, it’s already crowded, though there’s plenty of space for us to set up and relax in the sun. Before long, Katie (Henderson, who’s pleased that she can be known by her first name again while ‘American Katie’ is in Italy) arrives, accompanied by her boyfriend, Alexa and Jenny, all of whom quickly make their way over to where we’re sat. Shortly afterward, our friends Natalie and Zoe arrive, accompanied by Natalie’s sister Ellen and her fiancée Amelie. Thankfully, no one asks what Ophelia, Telemachus and I were up to this morning, and Ophelia doesn't offer up any clues either- all of us are just happy to be surrounded by friends on a beautiful summer's day. And equally thankfully, no one’s asking me about Simon, either. However, just as I think everyone has arrived and I’m trying to relax on my beach towel, I’m interrupted by a familiar silhouette blocking my sun.

“Hey!” I protest as the young blond-haired man smirks. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you Ian, but could you stand somewhere that won’t give me a lopsided tan?”

“Sorry, sorry!” The young Welshman chuckles as he sits down next to me and removes his loose t-shirt, revealing the flat, firm chest that he worked just as hard to earn as I worked to earn my 'non-flat' chest and 'flat' crotch. “Thanks for the invitation today, though. Gives me an excuse to not go back to Cardiff for a bit longer, heh!”

“I thought you were living in London full-time now?” I ask. “Ever since you signed for-“

“Yeah- well, yeah, kinda,” Ian interrupts, fidgeting awkwardly. “Grandma wants me to come home for at least one week over summer, though, which means dealing with mum as well, and- yeah. Not really looking forward to that, heh.” I smile sympathetically, even as I muse on how many of my friends seem to have the same problems in their lives, even beyond the 'obvious' connection that Ian and I share.

“I bet,” I say softly. “So, who did you travel down with?”

“Oh, the- the usual,” Ian replies, grimacing as another familiar face sits down on the other side of me- the face belonging to Ian’s flat mate, who just so happened to have been my boyfriend for six months.

“H- hi Jacinta,” Lee says nervously, before removing his own t-shirt to reveal that he’s a lot more buff than the skinny nerd I dated last year

“Hi Lee,” I mumble. “You look- you look well.”

“Thanks,” my ex mumbles. “You’re looking great too…”

“I- I think I’ll leave you two to it,” Ian says, making me internally curse as I’m left alone with Lee. Naturally, an awkward silent moment passes between us as I remember the times we shared last year. The fun- both in and out of the bedroom- the way Lee made me laugh, and most of all, the very abrupt way I ended it with him right before I went in for my SRS.

“So, umm…” I mumble.

“Yeah, hi,” Lee chuckles. “Again, as we’ve already said ‘hi’ once, heh.”

“Yeah,” I giggle. “So, are- are you seeing anyone at the moment?” And you open with THAT question? I think to myself as I feel every cell in my body squirm with embarrassment.

“Not at the moment,” Lee replies. “Are- are you?” Well, I walked into THIS one, I think to myself as I ponder how to answer the question- an answer that hinges on how I intend to answer Simon’s question. Am I going to get back together with him? Things with Simon ended for a reason, after all, and after Simon, Lee was like a breath of fresh air. He was funny, sweet, VERY ‘eager to please’… But things also ended with him for a reason. However, in the time that’s passed, Lee’s obviously changed a lot. But then again, so has Simon…

“Not- not really,” I reply with a smile. “I’m kinda keeping my options open, heh.”

“Heh,” Lee chuckles nervously. “So, umm, I- I’ve kinda been thinking about you a lot lately. Like, we used to have a lot of fun, you know?”

“What, like when you drove me around your back garden on a go-kart in the middle of winter?” I retort.

“…You’re seriously telling me that WASN’T fun?” Lee asks, and despite myself, I let out a girlish giggle. Lee’s sense of humour was always his best characteristic, and it hasn’t changed in the time we’ve been separated. No man has ever made me laugh like Lee has- even if he is a bit (well, okay, a lot) of a nerd. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing, of course…

“…Maybe a little bit,” I say. “Are you still building your gadgets and gizmos?”

“Well, I’m studying robotic engineering at University College London, so it kinda goes with the territory,” Lee says with a smug grin that makes me roll my eyes before giggling again. After all, if he's studying a subject like that at a university as prestigious as that one, he has every right to be smug.

“How did you do in your first year?” I ask.

“Just about scraped a first overall,” Lee replies. “Going to need to up my game a bit for next year, heh.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Do you- do you know where you’d want to work yet? When you graduate, I mean?”

“Well, hopefully I’ll do a master’s or a PhD first,” Lee says. “The dream job, though, is definitely NASA. Who knows, maybe I’ll work on some of the robots that’ll be used by the first person to walk on Mars? And don’t tell me that WOULDN’T be cool.”

“…Maybe a little,” I say, though internally, I’m more than a little impressed. Working for NASA is a lot more impressive than working for a fashion magazine. Also a lot more impressive than working for a cinema, Like Simon…

“I’m hoping to get an internship there next summer,” Lee continues. “Of course, competition for that will be FIERCE, though I’d happily settle for interning for the European Space Agency instead. But, you know, summer at JPL in California, getting hands-on with the most advanced technology ever built by humans, who can say no to that?”

“Hell, it’s even making ME want a go!” I giggle, earning a smile from Lee. “You know, you- you’re a lot different than I remember.”

“Well, I have been hitting the gym a bit more,” Lee says, again making me giggle.

“Not like THAT,” I retort. “Well, okay, maybe a little like THAT, but, you know, you seem a lot more- a lot more grown up. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, you know?” Another reason our relationship ended was the small but still significant age gap- I was a few weeks away from my 22nd birthday when we started going out, while he’d just turned 18, which I didn’t expect at first to be as big a deal as it turned out to be. A year at university though, especially one like UCL, has definitely made him a lot more mature- and a lot sexier, too…

“I know,” Lee says with a smile, before nervously biting his lip. “So, umm, do you have any other plans for the summer? Any holidays or anything?”

“I’ve only just got back from holiday!” I chuckle. “Going back to work tomorrow, not all of us can have huge three-month holidays in summer!”

"Not even the daughter of a millionaire?" Lee asks, before chuckling as I stare at him witheringly.

"...You watched that, then?" I ask.

"You did kinda hype it on your Facebook," Lee reminds me. "So, well, yeah, I- I kinda did, heh. So did Ian. We were nowhere on the last few questions, your dad's a really smart guy."

"Thanks," I chuckle quietly. "And for the record, I paid for my own holidays this year."

"Okay, okay," Lee chuckles. “So, umm, did you go anywhere nice? I mean, I already know you went to America and Cyprus, I saw your Facebook photos, but, like, did you go anywhere nice in America or Cyprus?”

“Well- yeah, I had fun,” I reply with a grin. “And that's twice in as many sentences that you've mentioned Facebook. You still stalk me on there, then?”

“I don’t ‘stalk’,” Lee retorts. “I’m a friend who plays close interest to your Facebook activity. Now if we weren’t friends, THEN it’d be stalking.” …And once again, I find myself giggling at Lee’s joke and nodding in agreement.

“I’ll let you off this time,” I giggle. “Given that we have seen each other naked, you looking at my Facebook photos is kinda okay…” My voice trails off as I realise that the last time Lee and I saw each other naked, I looked a lot different than how I look now. Lee was cool with it, of course- his best friend is also transgender, after all- but it is still a sensitive area (so to speak).

“…Yeah,” Lee grimaces. “I notice you didn’t upload any photos of THAT, heh.”

“I think Facebook kinda has a few rules against it,” I say. “But to answer your next question, honestly, it’s fully healed, it’s like, you know, just normal for me now.”

“Yeah, I don’t- I don’t REALLY know what that’s like,” Lee chuckles.

“Ah- yeah, I guess,” I say, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

“And I wouldn’t have asked, either,” Lee says. “Kinda figure it’s, you know, a personal thing.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t really get much more personal,” I say, smirking as Lee’s cheeks start to turn red.

“I bet,” Lee says. “God knows I don’t ask Ian any of- well, THOSE questions, but-“

“But you’re both BOYS,” I interrupt, making Lee chuckle again.

“We prefer ‘men’,” Lee says. “’Guys’ will do in a crunch, though.”

“And the difference is…?” I ask, before shrieking with laughter as Lee suddenly springs to his feet and scoops me up in his arms.

“BOYS have less upper body strength,” Lee says, before chuckling as he gently lowers me back onto the sand. As I catch my breath, I suddenly realise that I have one of my arms wrapped around his neck while the other is gently caressing his chest- just as I would whenever we made out, or even when we made love... memories that are foremost in my mind right now.

“Okay, point taken,” I giggle. “GUY.”

“Heh,” Lee chuckles as he lowers himself down next to me. “So, I’m guessing you’re heading back to London tonight, then? If you’re at work tomorrow, I mean?”

“Yep,” I sigh. “Got a ticket booked for just after 5pm, want to show my friends some of the city first.”

“I could always give you a lift back if you want?” Lee offers. “I can drop you at your door, you won’t have to deal with the tube at rush hour.”

“…I’d like that,” I say with a smile as my mind starts to race- in the ‘Prince Charming’ stakes, maybe Simon has just slipped into second place…

We stay on the beach topping up our tans until lunchtime, when we all decamp to a nearby café. I’m not sure whether or not to be thankful that Lee chooses to eat with Ian rather than with me, though I am thankful that on my table, everyone's so hyped following the wedding that they don't even think to ask about the guy who was virtually powerlifting me a short while earlier. After lunch, Ophelia and I give our friends their promised mini tour of the city, taking in sights like the Pavilion and the i360, before eventually culminating in a big group photo at the end of the pier that I make sure to share with everyone before we all disperse for our various rides back to London. Before we leave the pier, though, my BFF approaches me with a wide grin on her face.

“Hey O,” I say with a smile. “Where’s Telemachus?”

“Making use of the facilities,” Ophelia replies. “Which gives me the opportunity to ask you whether or not that was your ex-boyfriend I saw you talking to on the beach earlier?”

“…I was kinda expecting you to bring THAT up at lunch,” I chuckle.

“With Natalie, Ellen and Alexa discussing football, another kind of football and politics, it was difficult to find the opportunity,” Ophelia retorts. “Though I was not prepared to let you return to London without commenting that I am not the only person today encountering a face from their past. However, while my mother shall remain in my past, shall Lee remain in yours?”

“Don’t know what you could possibly mean,” I unashamedly lie.

“I am inexperienced with relationships beyond my own,” Ophelia says, “Though my understanding is that most men don’t scoop other women up in a bridal carry unless they are intimate with them, or plan to become intimate.”

“We were just talking, that’s all,” I say. “You know Lee, he’s a joker, he- we were just playing around, having a laugh, that sort of thing.”

“If you say so,” Ophelia says. “The question is, what shall you tell Simon?”

“…What about Simon?” I ask.

“Unless you plan on dating both Simon and Lee simultaneously?” Ophelia asks. “Given your history with men, I would not recommend this.”

“Maybe I don’t want to date either one exclusively?” I retort, before sighing. “…Okay, maybe I do. It’s just- Lee’s changed a lot, you know? He used to be this immature kid, now he’s a slightly less immature slightly older guy. With a great body, too…”

“Well, I look forward to discussing it further on the train home,” Ophelia says, making me grimace.

“Ah- yeah, about that…” I say as I head toward where Ian and Lee are walking, my BFF following close behind me.

A short while later, I say goodbye to my friends- including Ian- at the railway station, before heading to Lee’s car and lowering myself onto the passenger seat with a wide, yet nervous grin on my face.

“Well, we’ve certainly given them a few things to talk about on the train,” I say with a nervous giggle as I fasten my seatbelt and we head back north.

“Meh, let them talk,” Lee shrugs, mirroring my smile. “I’m glad you accepted my offer of a lift, though this car does have five seats, so technically I could’ve given Ian a lift too, and two of your other friends."

“I didn’t want to let a train ticket go to waste,” I shrug.

“Your dad is literally a millionaire,” Lee retorts. “£20 for a train ticket is, like, a drop in the ocean.”

“Yeah, dad’s a millionaire, but I’m not,” I say, before sighing. “…And maybe I wanted to pick up our conversation from where we left off. Is that really a bad thing?”

“Well, I certainly don’t think so,” Lee replies with a smile. “I- I really have missed you over this last year, Jacinta. I mean, okay, yes, I’ve dated other girls since, but- umm, maybe I should stop talking?”

“…Maybe,” I reply with a smirk as Lee squirms. “But in fairness, I’ve dated other guys too, and none of them have really made me laugh like you do. In a good way, I mean.”

“As long as you only laugh at me when I’m fully clothed,” Lee says, earning another giggle from me.

“Don’t worry,” I say reassuringly. “You have nothing to apologise about in THAT area, hehe!”

“Always good to hear,” Lee says, though my comment seems to make his cheeks redden even more.

“What- what’s up?” I ask.

“Oh- nothing,” Lee mumbles. “Just- just this talk of ‘areas’…”

“Yeah, well, like I said before, it’s not ‘sensitive’, it’s just part of who I am,” I say, before taking a deep breath. there's no real way to word my next question without actually coming on to Lee, and I don't want to give him the wrong impression- assuming, of course, that it is a 'wrong' impression. “…Would you like to see it?”

“…What, now?” Lee replies. “Might cause a pile-up if I did…”

“I meant when we get back to London,” I say softly. “Can you maybe, you know, stop by for some coffee before heading home?”

“Only if it’s decaf, this late in the evening,” Lee says, making me roll my eyes.

“Okay then,” I sigh. “Do you want to drop round to have some s-“

“I knew what you meant,” Lee teases, again making me giggle despite myself. “And the answer is definitely ‘yes’. If, umm, well…”

“…Yes?” I ask.

“You did say before that you were, well, only sort-of not going out with anyone right now,” Lee says. “Am I, you know, ‘playing in another guy’s garden’?”

“Well, first, it’s MY ‘garden’, and I decide who ‘plays’ on it,” I retort with a frown that softens as Lee mumbles an apology. “And second, I- I still really like you, Lee.”

“…I like you too,” Lee says. “So, umm, would you- would you think about, you know, making this, like, an ongoing arrangement? Not just, like, the ‘coffee’, but, umm, well-“

“If you want to ask it, just ask it,” I say.

“Will you- umm, do- do you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend again?” Lee asks. You had to ask, I (admittedly hypocritically) think to myself. Just as with Simon, this isn’t going to be an easy question to answer. I do like Lee, sure. He’s funny, he’s sweet (in his own unique way), he’s sexy too, but he most definitely wasn’t Prince Charming. However, that was twelve months ago, and he’s changed a lot since then. Then again, so has Simon, and I haven’t given him an answer yet…

“Let- let’s take it one day at a time,” I whisper, sharing a smile with Lee as we head back to London.

When we arrive back at my flat, it doesn’t take long for our clothes to hit the floor. But even after we've 'finished', I find myself wanting to be around Lee even more- though just talking, as friends. It may seem obvious, but it took me until now to realise that if I can't be friendly with 'Prince Charming', the relationship simply won't go anywhere. And of all my exes, Lee is easily the one I most consider a friend, something definitely helped by how fond I am of his best friend- the closes thing I have to a little brother. The more we talk, the more convinced I am that Lee COULD be Prince Charming… but I’m still far from certain that he IS. All I know is that my decision just got a lot harder…

I spend the rest of the evening trying to distract myself with television, Facebook and catching up with work ahead of tomorrow. However, as much as I try, I can’t get the two young men out of my mind. I’ve spent so long being obsessed over finding my ‘Prince Charming’, and now I’ve had two candidates fling themselves at me in the space of 48 hours. Two candidates I’d previously rejected, sure, but they’re definitely back in contention now… I think. I know I’ve been too picky in the past, and that’s only got worse as time’s gone on. I’ve become so focused on finding ‘the one’ that ‘a one’ just isn’t good enough for me anymore. I want a man who can satisfy all of my wants and desires. I don’t want to settle for 90%, or even 99%, I want 100%. But is 99% really so bad? Does the perfect guy, ‘Prince Charming’ even really exist? Given the amount of people who marry and later divorce, is ‘Prince Charming’ even really a thing for anyone? In the end, I want someone who makes me happy, and Lee and Simon both certainly fit that mould. But do they make me happy enough?

I’m woken the following morning by the sound of the television coming from the living room, making me sigh. Katie had said she was staying overnight at Charlie’s house, but must have come home to shower and change her clothes. When I enter the living room, however, it’s not Katie’s face that greets me, but rather a face I’ve been seeing with increasing frequency in my dreams.

“M- mum?” I ask.

“Hello again,” my mother says with a warm smile as she gestures for me to sit down next to her.

“Wake up it’s a beautiful morning…” My phone’s alarm blares, waking me from my slumber and making me groan with frustration. After mum passed away, I dreamed about her a lot, but as time went on, the dreams became less and less frequent, maybe twice a year at most. But this dream is at least the tenth one I’ve had in the last four weeks. I just wish I knew what the dreams meant, and what mum had to say to me…

Even though I’m looking forward to going back to work, I still let out a sigh as I get dressed in my plain light blue top and floaty grey skirt. After all, my holiday is now over, and I did have a lot of fun while I was away. Well, right up until I was faced with a virtually impossible dilemma, anyway…

“Hello, miss globetrotter!” Lizzie teases, making me sigh and roll my eyes in a mock dramatic way as I enter the office and head to my desk to set up for the day. “Enjoy your holiday?”

“Yeah, it was great, thanks!” I reply with a genuine smile that my deputy editor mirrors. “Kinda looking forward to getting back into the swing of things, though.”

“Yeah, I bet!” Lizzie chuckles. “Well, no real rush today, you just take your time getting back up to speed. It’s Saturday that’s going to be the big day, anyway!”

“Very true!” I chuckle as I think forward to AngelCon 2019 3 days from now. The backstage press pass I've been able to blag off of Nikki, which gives me the ability to take countless exclusive photos for the magazine, has made Terri and Lizzie very happy with the number of extra sales it'll inevitably generate for the magazine. And even better, of course, is that I’ll be spending the whole weekend ‘working’ with my friends.

“Terri’s going to be in a bit later, I think she wants to talk to you about the Twitch streamers feature we did last month,” Lizzie says. “And I know Ciara wants some photos for a feature on the website. But in the meantime, I want to hear about America and Cyprus!”

“Well, there’s not really much to tell,” I chuckle. “The weddings were both beautiful, the countries were hot…”

“Yep, I saw the photos, and I can definitely tell by your tan!” Lizzie teases as she gestures toward my bare legs. “Meet any nice guys while you were over there?” Straight to THAT question, then, I think to myself as I force a smile on my face.

“’Nice’ guys?” I retort. “Do they even exist?” I share a giggle with the bubbly young woman in the vain hope that this will divert the topic of conversation.

“Ah, but seriously, though?” Lizzie asks, making me groan internally.

“Seriously,” I say with a grin. “I had a LOT of fun in Cyprus, and I’ll leave it at that, hehe!”

“Atta girl!” Lizzie giggles, giving me a gentle cuddle before heading to her desk. I take the opportunity to set up my camera and my laptop and log in to the magazine’s servers, but before I can start any work, I’m interrupted by two other familiar faces sitting down opposite me.

“You do actually still work here, then?” Josh teases, smirking along with Alex as I roll my eyes.

“Ha ha, hilarious,” I retort. “The office didn’t burn down in my absence, then?”

“Well, Josh did buy a pair of hair straighteners, so nearly,” Alex says, earning an elbow in the ribs from his boyfriend.

“I hope you’re joking,” I chuckle, before playfully ruffling Josh’s long, curly locks. “Why would you ever straighten hair like that?”

“Told you,” Alex chuckles.

“I’ve always wished I could have, you know, curly, more voluminous hair,” I muse. “My friend Nikki has wavy hair and is always going on about how she wished her hair could be straighter, like mine, but mine’s only straight because the- well, the ‘Y chromosome owners’ in my family typically have thinner hair, and- and, I, umm, I lost you a while back, didn’t I?”

“…Yeah, just ‘cause we’re gay, it doesn’t make us hairdressers, heh!” Alex says with a laugh. “Though I think we’ve just proved that your, well, your Y chromosome is probably just another X one that’s been folded over a bit, heh.”

“Now who’s being stereotypical?” I giggle, before sighing and smiling as my two workmates return to their desks.

Just as I’m about to start work- again- on editing my photos for Ciara, I sense another person sitting down next to me, which elicits another sigh- though the smile quickly returns to my face when I see who it is.

“Hey you!” I say with a giggle. “Miss me?”

“Maybe a little,” Tom replies, sharing my smile as he relaxes back into his chair. “Did you enjoy your holiday?”

“Yeah, it was great, thanks!” I reply. “I mean, I’ve been to America before, but it’s still an amazing country, and Cyprus is really hot too, heh! Then again, so is England right now!”

“Yeah, I saw some of the photos from yesterday,” Tom says with a grin. “If I’d known you were going back home yesterday, I’d have tried to cadge the day off and gone with you.”

“Yeah, that- that might have given people the wrong impression,” I chuckle as I think back to the many times that my friends have mistaken Tom- who admittedly is one of my oldest friends- for more than just a friend. “Lee being one of them…”

“Who- Lee?” Tom asks. “As in your ex-boyfriend from Wales? Was he there yesterday?” Why do you sound jealous? I think to myself.

“Yeah, he came down with his flat mate from uni,” I reply. “He- he actually wants us to get back together.”

“Okay,” Tom shrugs, a stoic expression taking over his face. “And do- do you want to get back together with him?”

“…Maybe?” I reply with a grimace. “It wouldn’t be such a hard decision, but I ran into Simon at the wedding in Cyprus too. He’s another ex, by the way.”

“Yeah, I remember you talking about him before,” Tom says. “Always a tough choice when you’ve been separated a while, you kinda look at your ex through rose-tinted glasses, especially if you’re still single.”

“Yeah,” I sigh sadly.

“God knows I’ve been thinking about Caitlin a lot recently,” Tom says, making me fidget uncomfortably.

“Has- has she asked you to-“ I stammer.

“Nah,” Tom shrugs. “Dunno even if I would if she said yes, the way we ended- yeah, not fond memories, heh.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, though as I do, I can’t help but remember my own former friendship with Caitlin. After my mother died, it took months for me to return to primary school, and when I did, I’d never felt more alone. I’d always been a bit of a loner, a bit of an odd one out- for obvious reasons- but I’d never been as scared as I was during that September. And then, out of the blue, three girls came over to me and invited me to join their clique, and all of a sudden, I knew what it was to have real friends. Or so I thought, anyway- by the time we were all thirteen, Caitlin, Jessica and Noor had all decided they’d had enough of me, and by the time we left secondary school, they hadn’t so much as looked at me in months. And then, when ‘Jacinta’ finally met Caitlin, she treated me the same way you’d treat something you stepped on in the street, never mind the fact that she, like me, grew up in the LGBT capital of the UK. And then she started going out with a guy I always fancied…

“Anyway,” Tom says, taking a deep breath. “I actually came over as I need to give you this.” I smirk as Tom drops a laminated lanyard on my desk- my backstage pass to AngelCon this Saturday. “Got ones for Josh and Alex too, as I’ve lined up a few interviews for them. And I got one for myself too.”

“What, are you going to do more interviews, then?” I tease, giggling as Tom rolls his eyes.

“Ah- no, no I’m not,” Tom chuckles. “That interview with your dad is the beginning and end of my, well, ‘in front of the scenes’ journalistic career. Nah, I’m just going along to make some contacts, that sort of thing.”

“The contacts I’ve already made, you mean?” I say, giggling as Tom rolls his eyes.

“Well, just in case your dad buys you an apartment in Monaco or somewhere,” Tom retorts, making me roll my eyes. “Or you get yourself a rich husband, heh.”

“Neither Simon nor Lee are THAT well off,” I say. “Assuming I decide to go out with either of them, anyway…” I sigh as Tom heads away to talk to my colleagues, before turning back to focus on my work. Over the last few months, Tom has become one of my closest friends, and while (as I've said before) friendship is a key ingredient for being 'Prince Charming', Tom might be TOO good a friend. After all, we hear far too often about friendships that get ruined by sex- and Tom’s friendship is something I’m not prepared to risk.

With no further distractions, I take the opportunity to immerse myself in my work, quickly catching up on the workload that had built up while I was away. Terri arrives later in the morning and calls me in to see her, just as Lizzie said, but the meeting only lasts a few minutes, as Terri only wanted to go over which photos she wanted to use for the Twitch feature in our next issue. And, of course, talk about my holiday. Once that’s all sorted out, I head back to my desk and get back to my work, awaiting my next interruption from our webmaster. However, when she eventually arrives in the office, I realise I underestimated just how much of a distraction she would be…

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late,” Ciara says as she enters the office… followed closely behind by Phil Mansfield. The same Phil Mansfield whom I slept with at Christmas, who was a complete embarrassment in front of my friends, and who is looking straight at me as he walks through the office…

“H- hey,” I say nervously as the two newcomers sit down opposite me.

“Good holiday?” Ciara asks as I mentally prepare to have the exact same conversation I had with all of my other colleagues.

“Yeah, it was good, thanks!” I reply with a forced smile. “Did- did you say you wanted to talk to me about photos for the website?”

“Nah, that can wait, I want to hear about America and Cyprus!” Ciara says with very uncharacteristic enthusiasm. All the while, Phil sits back silently, staring at me intently. I take a deep breath and smile as I recap my holiday for the fifth time today, before trying not to cringe as Ciara excuses herself and heads to her desk, leaving me alone with Phil for the first time this year.

“…So, hi then,” Phil says awkwardly.

“Yeah, hi,” I say. “Long time no see, heh. Are you- are you, you know, keeping okay?”

“Not bad, thanks,” Phil says in an uncharacteristically laid-back way, with none of the swagger or bravado that seemed to define him last Christmas. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say. “So, umm…”

“Yeah,” Phil says, before grimacing and sighing. “I- I may as well come out and say it, I- I came here with Ciara today because I wanted to see you.”

“…No work today, then?” I ask.

“Night shift,” Phil replies. “I’m a nurse, remember?"

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” I chuckle. “So is- is that why you and Ciara were up so late?”

“Well… sort of,” Phil says. “Yes, I kinda sleep 7am to 2pm when I’m on nights, but I’m up ear- well, quote-unquote early today as I’m not at work tonight.”

“…So you AREN’T at work today, then?” I ask with a smug grin.

“My shift ended at 6am, which is still technically today,” Phil replies with an equally smug grin. “Ciara usually sleeps in, that way we don’t disturb each other when either of us leaves for work. But no, we’re not sleeping in the same bed, or even the same bedroom.” That was specific, I think to myself. Then again, he did say he came here specifically to see me…

“O-kay…” I say hesitantly. “Do you- do you have anything planned for this evening, then?”

“Well… Not yet,” Phil says. “I was wondering, you know, if- if you wanted to maybe get a drink tonight?” …Six months and you’ve chosen NOW to ask me out again? I think to myself as my mind starts to spin.

“Phil, I- I-“ I stammer.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot,” Phil says. “Well, so to speak, anyway. Got off, that i-“

“I got it, yeah,” I interrupt.

“But I- I really can’t stop thinking about you,” Phil says. “Especially in the last few weeks. Can we- do you think we can, you know, try again? I promise not to be a total idiot and pose naked in front of your friends again?” I pause to think as Phil asks me this question. The answer SHOULD be easy- both Lee and Simon are better ‘Prince Charming’ candidates, after all- and yet I can’t bring myself to simply say an outright ‘no’. After all, Phil is sexy- he’s tall, fit and has a classically handsome face. His sense of humour might not be for everyone, but he is still a funny guy, and his recent ‘change’ may even have made him funnier. Also, if we’re talking ‘Prince Charming’ stakes, then nurse certainly beats out cinema worker or engineer (let alone student engineer). And there’s also the fact that Phil is the first guy I ever had sex with post-op, so any 'awkwardness' is already out of the way…

“I- I need time to think about it,” I whisper, trying not to grimace as Phil’s face is filled with disappointment.

“Well- okay,” Phil says. “You have my number, you know where I am.”

“Sure,” I whisper, before letting out a long sigh as Phil walks away to meet up with his flat mate.

Over the course of the last 72 hours, three different guys have propositioned me, all of whom I’ve been with before and all of whom I’ve really liked. They all have their plus points, sure, but they all have flaws that I previously thought ruled them out of the running for ‘Prince Charming’. However, they’re all very much back in the running for one very good reason- they’re all willing to totally overlook my ‘flaw’.

Not that I consider being transgender to be a ‘flaw’, of course- it’s simply part of who I am. I am a woman, but I wasn’t born that way, but that doesn’t stop me from being a woman nonetheless. However, there are millions of potential ‘Prince Charmings’ in the UK alone who would see the way I was born as disqualifying me from being ‘Cinderella’. I would never even dream of dating a transphobe, of course. Even if he was a firefighter who owned a Lamborghini and who looked like Chris Hemsworth, even the slightest hint of transphobia would mean he’d be kicked straight to the kerb. However, that does also mean that the task of finding ‘Prince Charming’ is considerably harder for me than it should be.

And yet, not one, not two but three attractive young men want me to be their ‘Cinderella’. They’re willing to look past my 5’ 10”, broad shouldered frame, my size nine feet and my masculine jawline to see the woman that I truly am underneath- a woman they want to be their girlfriend. They don’t care about the stigma of having a transgender girlfriend- they simply like me for me. And that is the most ‘Charming’ thing any guy, or any Prince can do for a girl like me, and that’s what makes the decision so difficult…

Thankfully, Phil leaves a short while later, allowing me to get back to focussing on my work. After a few more chats with my editors (including a request from Terri to try to get exclusive photos of Mary Carter’s new baby, a boy named Logan who was born on the 8th) the clock finally ticks over to 5pm, and I let out a long sigh as I pack away my stuff and get ready to follow my colleagues out of the office. Before I go, however, I check my phone, and smirk as I find two texts- one from my flatmate, the other from my BFF- inviting me to one of our favourite pubs for a few pre-dinner drinks- and if both girls are texting me, it’s a safe bet there’ll be more than just those two there. Obviously, I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to hang out with my friends (and take my mind off my dilemma) so with a wide grin on my face, I text back to let them know I’m on my way. However, my suddenly improved mood doesn’t go unnoticed by my colleague.

“Don’t let Terri see you’re THAT happy to be getting out of work!” Alex teases, making me giggle and roll my eyes.

“I’ve just got a text inviting me to a pub for a few drinks with my friends,” I retort. “I think I’ve told you before about my friends from America? They’re over this week for AngelCon so I kinda want to spend as much time with them as I can.”

“Ah, cool, is this the same-sex married couple where one of them is transgender?” Josh asks.

“That’s them,” I reply with a grin. “Last time everyone was at this particular pub together, things got a bit, well, messy, hehe!”

“Sounds cool!” Josh says, before taking a deep breath. “Can- can we come? I mean, would it be okay if, you know, we tagged along?”

“Well- it is a PUBLIC house, I guess,” I chuckle. “Though you two did nearly pass out from boredom when I talked about my hair earlier, heh. Are you ready for that multiplied by seven?”

“…We can put up with it for one night, I guess,” Alex replies with a smart aleck grin.

“BOYS,” I sigh, before giggling as we leave the office, only to stop a few steps later when more of my colleagues stop as well.

“Did you say you’re going to meet your American friends at the pub?” Tom asks, grinning as I nod. “Cool, can- can I come too? I mean, umm, I reckon they’d be a really interesting story for the magazine, and-“

“Sure, why not?” I chuckle. “Anyone else?”

“I wouldn’t mind coming along,” Ciara says with a shrug. “Just so the boys don’t start to outnumber us too much, heh! I just need to get something from home first, it that’s okay?”

“Sure!” I chuckle. As long as the thing you’re getting isn’t Phil, I think to myself. “You can never have too many friends, right?”

“Right!” My colleagues giggle as I accompany the three men the short distance to the Heavenly Talent-owned pub, where my six friends are already gathered.

Naturally, my friends all greet me with a tight hug, which they all also share with Josh, Alex and Tom, most of them having met the three men before either at uni or at my ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire’ watch party in May. It doesn’t take long for the conversation to get up to full swing as I and my colleagues are bombarded with questions about work, while we grill Nikki and Katie about what to expect at AngelCon and Tom gets Jexy’s contact details for an interview. The mood changes, however, when Ciara arrives twenty minutes later- and just as I’d feared, she’s brought Phil along with her.

“Hey guys, hey Jacinta!” Ciara says with a cool smile. “Hey everyone, I’m Ciara, I’m in charge of X-1’s website, and this is my flatmate Phil.”

“Who some of us have already met!” Katie says as Phil and I seem to be in a race to see whose face can get the reddest the quickest. “First time wearing actual clothes, though.”

“Umm, did- did we miss something?” Nikki asks.

“That depends on how you would define the word ‘miss’,” Ophelia says with a knowing smirk. “In these circumstances, the word would be ‘no’.”

“Yeah…” Phil grimaces. “Kinda think I do owe you all an apology for THAT, heh…”

“Apology accepted,” Katie chuckles as I pray for the ground to swallow me up. “And I’ll fill you guys in later on what happened last Christmas.”

“…Oh, THAT,” Nikki says, before quickly becoming overrun by a fit of giggles that her wife and their American counterparts share. Is there anyone who doesn’t know about this? I self-pityingly think to myself.

“…Yeah, THAT,” Ciara sighs as she playfully shakes her head and tuts at her flat mate.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight, I promise,” Phil says, before heading to the bar to get a drink.

“…So, anyway,” I say in a hasty, desperate attempt to change the subject. “What have you two been up to today?”

“Us?” Alexa replied, smiling as I nod. “We went to Madame Tussauds, had a look around, had our photographs taken with the Queen, William and Kate and loads more.”

"Including Theresa May?” I ask. “While she’s still in there, anyway?” Even politics is a better topic of conversation than me and Phil, I think to myself.

“…Not this time,” Jenny replied with a half-grin, half-grimace. “For what it’s worth, we also skipped over- what was it Natalie called him?”

“The orange fart,” Alexa said with a giggle. “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t believe you at first when you said that in British English, THAT word means THAT, hehe!”

“And in a few days’ time,” Sarah giggles, “we’re probably going to have a Johnson as prime minister, which in American English means-“

“The least appropriate thing to talk about at THIS table!” I interrupt, triggering a mass giggle. “Ahh… What have you got planned for tomorrow, then?”

“Well we WERE going to take a day out to relax,” Jenny replies. “Until your friend decided that our story is something that your readers would find interesting!”

“And to be fair to him, he’s got a point!” Nikki says, giggling as both halves of Jexy start to blush.

“It’s certainly more interesting than my story,” I chuckle, earning sympathetic smiles from my friends.

“Well, yours hasn’t ended yet,” Katie reminds me.

“Indeed,” Ophelia says as my cheeks start to redden from the sudden attention I’m getting. “Your story shall not be complete until you receive the happy ending you so richly deserve.”

“Riding off into the sunset with ‘Prince Charming’,” Alexa teases, giggling as I roll my eyes.

“…Do I need to tell Rachel to set up the karaoke machine?” I say (or rather, threaten), earning blushes from Snikki and Jexy.

“Ah, they’re not wrong, though,” Nikki sighs happily. “Why have you two never got together, though? Assuming that you didn’t when you lived in Brighton, anyway?”

“Wh- who, us?” I ask as I look back and forth between myself and Tom. “Yeah, kinda- kinda a bit awkward, heh, I mean, he-“

“I kinda- kinda went to school with ‘Jason’,” Tom says, making me cringe at the use of my deadname. “And went out with one of her old friends as well…”

“Yeah, it’d be really kinda awkward,” I chuckle. And a fourth option is the last thing I need right now, I think to myself. “Better as friends.”

“Some of the best couples in the world started as friends,” Sarah muses as she links her fingers with her wife’s, while Alexa and Jenny do the same.

“And he’d be much better than captain cushion over there,” Katie whispers to me as she gestures to the oblivious Phil.

“So, Alexa, Jenny,” I say hastily. “What d’you have planned for Friday?”

“Hopefully going to the big party before AngelCon at Charlotte’s house,” Alexa replies. “Assuming someone can get us on the guest list?” I giggle along with everyone as Alexa pouts at Nikki, who overdramatically sighs.

“…I think that can be arranged,” Nikki says with a giggle as the topic of conversation mercifully moves away from my chaotic love life.

We only stay at the pub for another hour before we all disperse and head back to our homes for dinner, Ciara and Phil thankfully leaving first, followed by Josh and Alex, then Snikki, Jexy and finally Katie, leaving just the three Brighton natives in the pub.

“Anyway, umm, I’d better head off too,” Tom says. “’Cause I’ve set up this interview last minute and Josh and Alex are both busy tomorrow, I guess I’m the one who’s going to have to do it, heh! I’ll text you tomorrow, let you know when and where to meet.”

“Sure,” I say, exchanging an awkward hug with the young man before he walks away. “…No Telemachus today, then?”

“He is even less of a fan of public houses than I am,” Ophelia replies. “And besides, I had been led to believe that tonight was to be a girls’ night.”

“Ah- yeah…” I grimace. “Sorry if I, you know, brought along a load of gatecrashers, heh.”

“You are forgiven,” Ophelia says, her grin widening. “A wise person once taught me that you can never have too many friends.”

“Jamie?” I ask, frowning with confusion as Ophelia shakes her head.

“You did,” my BFF says softly. “I dread to think where I would be today if not for your friendship.”

“Oh- oh for god’s sake, O, don’t make me cry in the pub…” I mumble.

“Which is why it constantly pains me to see you unhappy because of your single status,” Ophelia says. “Though I do believe that will end soon. You deserve to find your ‘Prince Charming’. Would I be right in assuming that Phil has extended to you the same offer that Lee and Simon did?”

“Emphasis NOT on ‘extended’?” I ask, smirking as Ophelia giggles at her unintended double entendre. “But yeah, he did. Because my love life was apparently too simple, heh.”

“If I were to have one wish,” Ophelia said, “it would be for you to find the same happiness with your husband that I have with Telemachus. But I believe that you already know who your ‘Prince Charming’ is, deep down inside.”

“…Want to give me a clue?” I ask.

“I said that YOU know, not that I do,” Ophelia teases. “Though as we are platonic soulmates, I do have my suspicions. But that is all that I shall say for now. Shall I see you on Friday?”

“Probably before,” I reply, smiling as I exchange a hug with my BFF outside the pub, before making my way to the nearest tube station to take me home.

When I arrive, I find myself alone once again, a text on my phone confirming that Katie is once again staying overnight at her boyfriend’s house. After a quick microwave dinner, I change into my slouchiest clothes and flop down on the sofa with a long sigh. I have a tough decision ahead of me. Simon, Lee and Phil all have great qualities that work in their favour. They also each have more than a few flaws that go against them. I’ve felt very strongly about them in the past, and they very clearly feel strongly about me. No matter who I choose, I’m going to end up disappointing two of them. Maybe I’ll choose none of them and disappoint all three? As Ophelia said, I deserve to find my ‘Prince Charming’. I’ve not had to endure as much as many other transgender girls, but I’ve had more than my fair share of loneliness.

Well, okay, that isn’t true either. As this evening proved, I have a vast network of friends, all of whom will be there for me if I ever want them to be- especially my BFF. ‘Platonic soulmates’ is as accurate a description of the two of us as I’ve ever heard, and as guilty as I feel for thinking it, a part of me almost wishes that she’d never met Telemachus, and that the two of us would’ve ended up together forever- even if sex would’ve been completely off the table. However, I know better than to dwell on such negative thoughts- Ophelia deserves her ‘Prince Charming’ just as much as I do, and I know that even if we marry others, we will always be together forever. I just wish I was as confident as she is about knowing who ‘Prince Charming’ actually is…

I don’t know exactly when I drifted off, but when I open my eyes, suddenly, sat next to me on the sofa, is the smiling face of my mother. Unlike all the previous times I’ve seen her in my dreams, though, I’m not shocked or scared to see her, but relieved. Consciously, I know she’s just a figment of my imagination, but if Ophelia’s right, and I do know who ‘Prince Charming’ is, then that’s exactly who I need to speak to right now…

“H- hi,” I say nervously.

“Hi,” mum replies with the same warm smile I remember from my childhood. “You’ve come here a lot.”

“Yeah,” I say with a sad sigh. “I- I know this is a dream, I know it’s not really you.”

“I’m as real as you want me to be,” mum says. “I’m as real as you need me to be.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I- I need help.”

“You’ve got a hard choice to make,” mum says. “But I know you’ll make the right decision.”

“I don’t,” I snort.

“Well you should,” mum insists. “I’m a part of you, remember? You know who ‘Prince Charming’ is. You’ve known all along.” I grimace, before relaxing as another face looms into view- the face of the man I immediately know I’m destined to spend the rest of my life with.

Of course, I don’t actually ‘know’ know this, as this is still a dream, after all, but in the context of the dream, as the young man sits down next to me, I’m filled with a feeling of certainty that I’ve never ever felt before. However, it also fills me with a sense of sadness, as I realise that my nap- and with it, my dream- is coming to an end.

“I- I don’t want you to go,” I sob, tears streaming from my eyes as I lean to my mother for a tight hug, the first I’ve received in over eighteen years.

“But I’m not going,” mum reassures me. “I’ll always be a part of you, Jacinta. My beautiful, perfect daughter. I wish I’d got to know the real you earlier. But I am proud of the woman you’ve become. And we will see each other again. I promise.”

“Heh,” I sniffle. “I- I don’t even believe in heaven…”

“But I do,” mum whispers as the living room starts to fade. “I love you, Jacinta.” I open my eyes to find myself back in the cold, harsh light of reality, my cheeks stained with tears and mascara as the dream starts to fade from my memory.

I try my hardest to remember every last detail of it- the way mum looked, the way she sounded, the feel of her hug… However, the harder I try, the more the details start to slip from my mind, all except one- the face of ‘Prince Charming’.

Filled with a sense of determination, I head through to the bathroom to repair my hair and my make-up, before heading through to my bedroom and exchanging the t-shirt and shorts I’d changed into when I got home for a short summer dress and a pair of 2” wedge-heeled sandals. I take several deep breaths to calm myself before grabbing my summer jacket and my handbag, leaving the flat and summoning a taxi to take me to my destination.

During the short taxi ride, my mind races over and over again as I try to convince myself I’m making the right decision. Logically, I know there are many reasons why I shouldn’t get with the guy I’m going to see, and I’m going to disappoint the others, maybe totally destroy any potential future relationship with them if it doesn’t work out with the guy I’ve chosen. But I can’t escape the feeling that the guy in question IS ‘Prince Charming’, and that Ophelia and ‘mum’ were both right- that I knew all along. And I know one thing for certain- I’ll never find out for certain unless I take the plunge…

My nerves jangle as I climb out of the taxi and walk up to the flat’s front door, and as I knock, I feel my legs turn to jelly and I have to prop myself up against the doorframe to stop myself from falling over. The door opens a few seconds later, and I bite my lip to stop it from trembling as the young man gazes at me.

“Jacinta?” the young man says. “What are you doing here?”

“H- hi,” I say breathlessly. “Can I come in?”

TO BE CONTINUED