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Somehow, we managed to pack, navigate to the airport and fly to JFK as a group with very little meaningful chatter. Mostly small talk and nursing hangovers from our heavy night previously; a sombre mood, and the strained atmosphere is so thick it’s almost opaque around us. Gino seems very aware of my turmoil about being Mrs, and after a brief joke about a shotgun wedding, Alessandra elbowing him hard in the ribs, no one brought it up again.

Alexi didn’t react, just kept his eyes on his phone, which he used so he didn’t have to talk to me after we left our room. He seemed completely disengaged, from all of us, abnormally sombre and quiet and disinterested in anything. He even bailed on dinner with our companions and left the three of us to eat while he was in the room, working apparently.

Consumed with a text conversation with God knows who, he left me to sort myself out, follow him at a distance and try not weep at the fact he was blanking me. It was