“Sophiee, you know I lurve you a million times over babes.” Leila slurs over the top of me, alcohol breath almost flooring me with its sheer toxicity, captured in her crazily strong embrace as we both sway. I’m a little worse for wear too, having drunk one too many champagne cocktails. The party is wearing down, but Leila is beyond wrecked and slobbering a gush of emotion all over me as I try to say my goodbyes to her.

“Baby, come on, Sophs is being suffocated by the fumes coming off you.” Daniel is trying to extract his wife’s arms from me and guide her towards the door, “trying” being...