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6
Dylan
Sky’s flat.I never expected to come here again. Ever. A powdering of snow on the ground adds a festive feel to a horrible situation. I’m alone. Myf offered to come, but this is something I need to do on my own.
Jim drops me at the gate then speeds away in the black Audi. Leaving my car outside and indicating to the world I’m with Sky won’t help my cause. I shift my leather jacket closer around myself and head up the path, combat boots leaving outlines in the new snow.
Sky buzzes the intercom, opening the door to the building entrance and I climb the stairs to her flat, apprehension flowing through. I fucked up the chance of a relationship with Sky by walking away in the summer instead of explaining. I understand that, but if Sky can listen and not hate me, maybe I can move myself on. I don’t know.
Sky opens the door and drags the breath from my lungs. Beautiful, real, amazing Sky stands with her hand on the edge of the doorframe, blue eyes wide. A single thought careens into my head: I love her. Her soft hair hangs in waves, reaching lower across her shoulders than a few months ago, but everything else about her is exactly the same. Sky’s strawberry scent reaches me, and I battle with the automatic need to bury my face into her hair and whisper how much I fucking missed her.
Sky tries to hide how she feels, but I know what she’s thinking. I’m not the same man she met in the summer. I don’t even look like him anymore.
“Dylan…” Sky’s hand goes to her mouth and the blue eyes widen further.
I shift my jacket across my shoulders, confused by her reaction. “Hey, Sky.”
She blinks away whatever she’s thinking and smiles. “Hey.”
Resisting the urge to take her in my arms and lose myself in the past, I step into the room as she widens the door. Sky positions herself, so I don’t stray too close as I walk inside. The flat doesn’t look any different either, apart from a small, fake Christmas tree, hung with baubles, in a corner near the front window. Still a hole, and still not the place I want her to live.
“Do you want a drink?” she asks.
“Whatever you’re having.”
“A huge glass of wine,” she mutters then says, “Coffee?”
“Huge glass of wine sounds good, but I’ll go with a coffee.”
Sky pauses then tips her head. “Wine it is.”
I perch on the blue sofa, rubbing my palms together as I wait for her to return. Sky tidied some of her mess of books and papers into piles on the coffee table and there’s a lack of empty cups around.
“How was the States?” Sky returns and passes me a goldfish bowl sized glass of wine before sitting opposite with hers.
“Shit.” I gulp from the glass.
“I can see. I’m surprised you went,” she remarks.
“I look that bad, huh?”
“Yes, Dylan. You do.” A shadow of concern passes her face.
“I like that you’re always honest.”
She gives me an odd look. “I’d like you to be honest.”
Well, I guess the formalities are over with. “You want to get straight into this?”
“Yes. I’ve waited a long time for your explanation.”
One thing about Sky, you always know where you are with her; I doubt she’d ever play games.
“Sorry I left without explaining.”
“You did what you had to, but it hurt, Dylan. A lot.”
“Sorry.” I grapple for other words of explanation as to why I left, but I can’t get them out. The situation strangles me because I’m terrified this is the last time I’ll ever see her. “I fucked up.”
