Chapter 2
“Well, that was the worst journey ever and it’s only just started,” I said, as we dashed inside at a motorway service station. The traffic had been heavy coming out of London. We’d barely got further than Watford before we made our first stop for a pee and a coffee. A couple of hours later and we weren’t much further north, and making another stop.
Gabi reapplied lipstick in the ladies’ room mirror. “We should have eloped to Barbados,” she said. “As I suggested.”
“I know,” I sighed, brushing my hair. “But a winter wedding at a Scottish castle…it seems so romantic.”
“Life is not like a story. You read too many books.”
“There’s no such thing as too many books. And sometimes life is just like a story.” Like when the insanely gorgeous Brazilian MRI scanner technician said “yes”
