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I didn’t open the door.
I don’t really know why. Nerves, maybe. Habit. Thirty-eight years of making the sensible choice, and some stubborn part of me refusing to stop now. I stood behind the door in my robe and held my breath like a teenager.
“Liam?” she said again, softer.
Silence.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. Fair enough. I’ll leave it here.”
I heard the charger cable land on the carpet outside. Then her footsteps going back down the corridor, and the lift arriving with a ding.
I lay down on the bed in Room 417 and stared at the ceiling and called myself every name I could think of.
At breakfast she was sitting by the window with Rosie, a blonde in sunglasses who was clearly suffering. Priya saw me come in and gave me a small, polite wave. Not cold. Not warm. Just polite.
Rosie leaned over and whispered something, and they both laughed.
I took my toast and my coffee to a table in the corner and ate it in silence, overlooking the bins.
When I checked out, the girl on reception apologised again for the double booking and gave me a voucher for ten per cent off my next stay.
I put it in my wallet next to the charger I didn’t need. I still have both. I’ve never used either.
Ending 12 of 16: Room 417. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.