Throughout the flight to Mexico, the waves of nausea were giving me palpitations. I don’t know whether it was the bottle of absinth making me unwell or the fact that I was moments away from my damnation.
It was like slow motion as I walked off the plane, through the gates and met John, who was standing there and smiling. He hugged me and gave me a kiss in my hair and even though I looked like crap, still said I looked beautiful.
The car ride to our hotel was long and pain-filled. I made mindless conversation and laughed at the right spots in John’s stories. Once we were in the hotel room, John obviously couldn’t take it anymore.
‘Alright Beth… what’s going on?’
I took a deep breath and a plunge at my fate.
How the hell could I do this?

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