My hands are shaking as I drive into Brighton. Taylor was gone this morning when I woke for an early meeting in London so I took my time getting up. The bathtub was just too tempting so I spent a good hour wallowing like a happy hippo until the water turned cool and my fingers and toes began to resemble prunes. Coffee and croissants on the patio followed until I finally had to admit to myself that the holiday was over and it was time to get back to reality, something that was compounded when my mum called to tell me that the flat was ready and that they needed me to view it this morning before final sign off on the construction. I had been so tempted to call Taylor and ask him to be there with me, but I knew that he had so much on his plate at the moment and that it would be too unfair of
