2 months later . . .

Santa Ponsa, Majorca

A few months ago, if you'd asked me what I'd be doing on my 30th birthday, I wouldn't have had the foggiest idea. Maybe I'd have managed to cobble a last-minute party together. Potentially, I could have been back with Declan . . . I'd probably have ended up in O'Neills if that was the case. Or perhaps I'd be curled in a ball under my covers, trying to forget the fact that I'd just entered a whole new decade.

I certainly wouldn't have believed I'd be spending it with Ricardo Parker, my one-time nemesis. Or that the guy who thought celebrating big birthdays was "a bit of a cliché" would have surprised me with an impromptu holiday to Majorca!

"I might not be a fan of birthdays myself," he told me when he handed me the tickets, dark eyes sparkling - incidentally, I've noticed they do that far more frequently these days. "But I know it's a big thing for you." He'd grinned. "Also, any excuse to have a holiday . . . I've not been abroad in years."

So, here we are, at a hotel in the bustling Majorcan resort of Santa Ponsa. The sun is shining, the sky a cloudless beautiful blue. Ric, dressed only in a pair of black swim-shorts (give me a moment to fan myself, please), is walking towards my lounger with a cocktail in one hand and a pint in the other. It's pretty damn idyllic, even if I did have to get up at 3 a.m. on my birthday to catch the way-too-early flight.

"I told them it was your 30th today, and we got a free round," he tells me, placing my drink on the table between us.

"Can you please stop telling people my age?" I tut. He already tried to do it at the airport and on the plane earlier in an attempt to blag us freebies. It wasn't particularly fruitful, although I did get a mini-tub of Pringles out of it, so I guess I can't complain.

"One more time at dinner later, then I'll stop, I promise," he bargains, smiling cheekily at me. I don't think I'll ever get tired of that smile.

I genuinely don't know where the past two months have gone. They say time flies when you're having fun, though, and that's probably why I feel that way.

This is easily the best relationship I've been in. I'm relaxed; I feel secure. I don't feel the need to rush anything. If something bothers me, I tell him. I don't have to put on the Cool Girlfriend Act if I'm not feeling that way. Not that Ric has ever given me reason to feel like that ever since we made our relationship official.

There's that whole theory in the theatre world that if the dress rehearsal goes badly, it's a good sign for the big performance. And I'm thinking the same might be true of my life - all my previous boyfriends have been terrible shitshow rehearsals, and Ric is the amazing main event. (Despite the lack of acting talent.)

We tried to play it cool at first, attempted to spend days apart, and even retire to our separate rooms at night on occasion . . . But within the last few weeks, that self-restraint has vanished completely. We no longer have any shame.

We share a bed pretty much every night now (Ric confessed to me that he sleeps much better with me beside him and, to be honest, my quality of sleep has vastly improved, too). We go to the pub quiz together most weeks, and roll our eyes as Mitch and Lou fight or snog frantically in a pretty much 50:50 ratio (Lou insists it's still "just a fling" but I'm not so sure). We still have our daily date to watch "The Chase" when we're both available, but it does occasionally end up with us shagging on the sofa, as opposed to berating the latest contestant to take the minus offer.

It's pretty incredible.

Don't get me wrong, Ric remains a sarcastic sod. He'll never hesitate to tease me or make a snarky comment if the opportunity arises, but I've always given as good as I get anyway. I wouldn't want that dynamic to change between us. It's our "thing".

But he's also loyal and supportive and just. . . there for me whenever I need him, whether it's to listen to me rant about Carrie (she's clearly trying to get better, but still occasionally rubs me up the wrong way - old habits die hard I guess), or deal with my family (who all adore him - especially Delilah).

As for love . . . Neither of us has voiced those three little words yet. But it's coming. I've swallowed the sentence down a few times. I suspect he has, too. We both know what it is.

And there's no hurry.

I take a sip of my cocktail, lie back on the lounger, and enjoy the feeling of the sun on my skin. A couple of kids are playing in the shallow end of the pool. Classic cannonballers right there. They're young, though, and don't know about my love metaphor, so I guess I'll let them off the hook this time.

"You know, I've never been able to just throw myself into a pool like that," Ric says, out-of-the-blue. I turn to him in surprise and see he's been watching the kids too over the top of his sunglasses.

"Same," I reply. "I always worry it will be too cold and too much of a shock. I'd rather just ease myself into the water gradually."

He bites his lip, looking thoughtful. "It's early August though, peak summer. The barman just told me it's been roasting here for weeks. I bet the pool wouldn't even be that cold if we just went for it."

"You think we should both just jump right in?" I ask, shivering at the very idea, despite the fact it's approximately 28 degrees right now. I'm such a drama queen.

After a brief pause, he nods. "I do. I say we don't even test it first; we just go for it." He laughs as he removes his shades. "Take the leap of faith. And just hope it's not like that bloody ice bucket challenge."

Despite his jokey tone, this seems significant somehow. "Let's do this," I agree, standing, and slipping my feet out of my sandals. Noticing how Ric's chocolate gaze slides appreciatively over my bright blue bikini . . . And its contents, of course. I don't really mind him being a Pervy McPervertson, though, as I'm currently returning the favour.

He reaches his hand out towards me, and I take it, but before I can start walking towards the water, he pulls me in towards him. "What's going on?" I ask, confused.

Ric brushes a kiss over my lips, soft and sweet, then steps back. His eyes are black and intense. But somehow soft at the same time. "I just wanted to say . . ." He swallows hard, and suddenly I know what's coming. "I love you, Abby."

The world suddenly gets brighter. I knew it, of course, but for him to say it out loud means everything. "I love you too, Ric," I reply firmly, and the smile that illuminates his face makes me temporarily dizzy. His lips meet mine again, and my heart threatens to burst out of my chest.

Fuck, it felt good to finally get that out there, I reflect, as we make our way to the edge of the pool.

"Ready?" I ask Ric, my heart beating faster as I look down at the clear turquoise water, not knowing what to expect. He nods. "3-2-1 . . . Go!"

With that, we both plunge into the water.

It is warm. It feels amazing.

And I love it.

I think we'll definitely stay in here for a while . . .

~The End~