Page 15 of Falling

“She didn’t say ‘no’. I asked her more than once if she was okay with what we were doing. There was no doubt, Sky.”

I study his expression, willing him not to look away because if he does, I won’t believe his words. Dylan’s face holds a distant truth.

He didn’t do this. He didn’t rape her.

“Why did you have sex with her and make things worse? You’d done enough harm.”

“I don’t know,” he says and returns his gaze to the floor. “I wish I hadn’t. First, I put her in the position that almost got her assaulted, and then, I did something that left her feeling used.”

Wrapping my arms around my chest, I fight to absorb the facts. Is Myf right? Was this all revenge by Lily? This is extreme.

“Dylan, I don’t understand why you walked away and let me think you raped someone. You should’ve told me and given me the chance to make up my own mind.”

Dylan pushes a hand into his curls and holds his hair tight for a moment. “I’m a fucking coward, Sky. That’s why.”

“You had no idea how I’d react! What you’ve told me makes me feel sick, but can’t you see the difference between what you were accused of and this?”

“Kind of.”

Something’s missing. Either that or Dylan has an impossible time forgiving himself for the past.

“How did Lily know where I was?”

“Jem. He’s a whole other story and I don’t want to talk about him.” His voice hardens. “He destroyed me and you.”

The sound of car tyres sloshing through the streets fills the following expanse of silence between us. My head spins as I try to take in the fucked up lifestyle Dylan lived. The Jem he describes looking for something real from an ordinary girl could easily be the Dylan I met in the summer. My head hurts in confusion. Who is the real Dylan Morgan out of all the ones I’ve seen?

“I get from your silence and body language this hasn’t changed anything?”

“This is a lot to think about, Dylan.” Something is missing, confusing gaps around events and decisions made. I don’t believe I have the full story.

“Yeah, I bet. The mistakes I make in my life are bigger than other people’s because I have bigger opportunities to fuck things up, but this doesn’t mean I regret them any less.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to reach out to me and my betraying body wants to hold this sad guy. He’s suffering for past wrongs he’s allowing to shape his life. I remember his words from Broadbeach, how he can’t breathe and things are killing him. Dragged back into his past, and stuck in the world he wants to escape, has killed more of the man he was by the sea.

“I don’t know what to say; this isn’t what I expected you to tell me,” I say hoarsely.

“I’ve said enough then?” Dylan rubs his eyes and watches for my response.

Again, I fight the pull to him. The aura around Dylan was never bad, always lost and painful.

“I understand if you can’t accept what I did, and hate that man, but you know now.”

I can’t process this all in the moment, and I stare at the sleeting snow.

“I brought you something,” he says. Dylan pulls a package from his pocket, a small box wrapped in holly-patterned Christmas paper. He watches me then hesitantly puts the gift on my coffee table.

“Why?” I ask hoarsely.

“In case I don’t see you again, I wanted you to have this.” He indicates the box.

A painful ache begins low in my stomach at the idea of finding Dylan again and him walking away forever. My lack of response gives him the wrong impression and he sighs quietly.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll go.”

I stiffen as he steps toward me, and places a kiss in the centre of my forehead. Closing my eyes, I hold my breath against the scent and warmth of this man, who I foolishly want to be mine.

“Happy Christmas, summer Sky. Thanks for listening to me.”

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