AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A tear escapes and I scrub at it with my sleeve. “I don’t hate you,” I whisper.
“Thank you.”
The gulf left by Dylan when he walks out of the flat pulls me to a place I can’t breathe. As I sit on the sofa, the barely held back tears spill. He waited four months to tell me these facts. Dylan is holding onto this to confirm he’s a bad person. What he and Jem did was wrong—manipulating a girl like that because it amused them. They were actions of an amoral man, one who now has morals and who wants to change. Why did he leave as soon as I started pushing for more information? I need to absorb this and there’s a lot I suspect I haven’t been told.
This won’t be the last time I see Dylan.
I pick up the package from the table and unwrap the paper as if the box might explode. Despite the shape, I’m relieved the box doesn’t contain jewellery. Instead, a small, black USB sits inside.
My laptop rests on the kitchen bench and I plug the USB in with shaking hands. Is this more photos? The stick contains an mp3 file titled ‘Summer Sky’. Tears welling already, I double click.
An acoustic guitar accompanied by Dylan’s voice fills the silence of my flat and the remaining parts of my heart are lost as I take in the words:
Life in a bubble is fragile
and full of temporary bliss
We floated along without a care
from the time of that first kiss
I was so unknown to you
but you showed me another side
of how our love could protect us
while we stayed safe inside
My summer sky, my summer sky
I want this life to be just you and I
I'd give it all up and that's no lie
for my summer sky, my summer sky
At the chorus, I hit the cancel button, unable to listen to any more.
The simple beauty of the music and tone of Dylan’s voice is at odds with the man he described to me ten minutes ago. A shallow, selfish star who treats everyone around him like shit, the kind of man who would abuse others and not care about the consequences, is not the man singing this song.
A tiny piece of paper is folded in the bottom of the box and I read the words:
Tomorrow? xx
My stomach flips over and over. He hasn’t given up, but I’m not sure I’m ready to let him back in.
I carefully put the USB into the box and close the lid before placing the gift on the kitchen bench. Then I pick up and re-read Dylan’s card, tracing my fingers over the letter x’s. The confusion I had about Dylan earlier today has morphed into turmoil.
