I couldn't help but wonder about them. Did they all have love stories worthy of novels? Were they here celebrating anniversaries, honeymoons, or just fleeting moments of passion? Did any of them meet the way Richard and I did? The thought made me giggle, probably louder than necessary, and Richard gave me a questioning look.
Richard opened the door to our designated apartment, stepping aside.
Inside, everything was luxurious. White curtains billowed from the balcony doors, caught in the breeze. A bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket near the bed, and rose petals were scattered across the linens. I rolled my eyes instinctively.
"I am really sorry about this; I couldn't change my mother's mind," Richard said, running a hand through his hair.
