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My jaw practically hits the table. “Why the hell would I want to visit the museum? Don’t you remember what happened to me this morning?”

“All right, fair enough. In that case, we’ll have a look around the shops.”

“Can’t we just go?” I groan, but my words fall on deaf ears.

I try appealing to David, but he’s already walking to the foodhall.

Right, something is going on here, I’m sure of it. I must have said something to upset Grace, and now her brother is miffed too. But what did I say?

Despite my reluctance, we go around the various shops at the visitor attraction. Grace and David inspect the local food and produce, the whiskies, the gifts, the tourist knick-knacks. It feels like they’re determined to examine every single item that’s available for purchase. When I try to remind them we still have a long journey ahead of us, they brush me off.

When at last they’re done browsing, we visit the facilities then head to the car park.

“Finally!” I say. “I’d no idea you two were so interested in shortbread and cashmere.”

But just as we’re reaching the car, David points to something we all missed when we arrived.

“Look, a maze! We have to do that before we go.”

“Are you kidding me? Can we not just get back on the motorway and—”

But the two of them are already walking off—apparently, unbelievably, to do the maze.

“Can you unlock the car?” I call after them. “I’ll sit in it and wait for you.”

But if they hear me, they don’t reply, and the car remains locked. With tears of frustration in my eyes, I traipse after them. By the time I reach the maze, Grace and David have already entered it.

“Do we have to do this? Can’t we please just go?”

Again, there’s no reply. I stamp my foot in irritation and swipe at my eyes.

A sign informs me this isn’t just any maze—it’s a “courtship maze”. Couples are invited to split up and go in via two different entrances. The goal is for them to be reunited at the maze’s centre.

Why on earth would my friends think I’d want to do this? This is getting beyond insensitive. It’s just plain cruel.

“Grace!” I yell. “David! Come on out. I’m not doing this. I can’t!”

But if they hear me, they choose to ignore me. I cross my arms and tap the ground with my foot, then drum my fingers on my side, then groan with exasperation. Giving up, I pick an entrance and head on in.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this! You’re my best friends—or at least, I thought you were!”

Silence—or rather, not quite silence. Footsteps sound somewhere nearby, but for a reason known only to them, Grace and David don’t reply. Maybe it’s paranoia, but could they be planning to ditch me? Are they going to wait until I’m stuck in the middle of the maze then race out to the car and drive off without me?

Oh God. Am I going to have anyone left in my life? Less than a month ago, I lost my fiancé, his family, and a bunch of mutual friends. I then made some new and, dare I say, better friends in Scotland, only to lose them too. I’ve lost business clients as well, and now, on top of all that, it seems I’m losing my two closest pals in the world. Could I be any more alone?

I wander through the maze uncertainly. It’s a mixture of stone walls and hedges, and along the way there are signs with quotes about love, just to make me feel even worse about myself. Love is something I’m not destined for, even though the reason I became a wedding planner is that I’ve long dreamed of finding “the one” and having my happy ever after.

“Grace! David!” I try again.

It’s no use. I really am alone, and the maze’s tall walls only further cement that feeling.

After a while, I come to a “window”—a square opening with a latticework of linked horseshoes. Padlocks have been attached to the horseshoes, engraved with the names of loved-up couples.

I peer through and spy another part of the maze. Had I done this with a partner, he and I might have passed here at the same time. We’d have been able to brush fingers through the latticework, perhaps share a kiss, but to be properly reunited, we’d have had to continue on to the centre.

It’s a romantic idea, but there’s no one on the other side for me—no lover, nor any sign of Grace and David. Nothing but an empty stretch of maze.

Tears prick at my eyes again.