Weaving through the crowd, I spotted my sister Zoe, 34, sat by the stage, saving us a couple of ring side seats.
‘Go on, hit him,’ I giggled.
‘It’s going to be a good match tonight,’ she replied, taking a sip of her drink.
It was September 2017, and I’d met my sister for a local charity boxing match, held in our hometown.
After watching a few rounds of fighting, the pair of us felt pumped up.
‘Shall we hit a club?’ Zoe suggested, calling a taxi.
When we arrived, we headed to the bar and bumped into a few friends, as well as a few new faces.
One of which in particular caught my eye.
‘Who’s that?’ I asked, nudging my sister excitedly.
‘I think he’s called Aaron,’ she…
