“The display is beautiful,” Dylan murmured in my ear. He recognised the flowers as my work instantly. I knew he would.

Sam’s mother came and hugged me for a long time. She didn’t say anything, because she was crying, but the hug expressed her gratitude for how pretty I’d made Sam’s grave. I swallowed, trying so hard not to cry, too. Although today, surely it was inevitable.

Afterward, there was food and drinks at Sam’s flat, but I only stayed for a short while. As I left, someone came behind me and softly touched my shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Dylan asked.

I turned and he gazed down at me, his expression full of warmth, full of empathy. And guilt. His guilt was misplaced, but I didn’t know how to stop him from feeling it.

“Yes, I just need some rest,” I replied quietly.

“Can I come with you?”

In this eyes, I saw how much he needed me, so I nodded, and we continued to my flat. Once there, I went into my bedroom and Dylan followed. I stood by my bed and looked at him, still so injured. I wondered what it was like to grieve while your body was in so much physical pain at the same time.

His dark blue gaze held mine, communicated a depth I wasn’t sure we could ever put into words. I stepped forward and carefully undressed him. I slid his blazer down his shoulders, unbuttoned his shirt. I carefully peeled away each layer until I saw his bruised and battered body.

When I was done, Dylan watched while I slid off my dress, until I stood in only my underwear. I stepped in front of him, kissed one of his cheeks and then the other. I kissed his neck and his collarbone, his breastplate and the white gauze around his ribs. I ran my fingers along the cast on his arm and pressed my lips to the stitches at his forehead. All the while, he seemed to hold his breath.

“You were right,” I whispered.

He stared down at me. “About what?”

“About this place. It did turn me hard, only it happened a lot sooner than you predicted.”

“That’s not true. You just feel that way because you’re grieving.”

I shook my head. “Losing Sam opened my eyes to everything you’ve been trying to tell me all along. This place is horrible, and it’s full of horrible people. If we didn’t live here, you wouldn’t have bullies coming after you. There wouldn’t be people who are so empty inside that the only way for them to feel anything is to beat a person until they aren’t a person anymore.”

I paused and tears streamed down my face. “If we didn’t live here, Dylan, Sam would still be alive. That’s someone I’ll think about every day for the rest of my life.”

Dylan ran a hand down his face. In his expression, I saw his regret, saw how he wished he’d never opened my eyes to the lowliness of our existence. His regret was pointless, of course, because I would’ve found out for myself anyway. I just would’ve been less prepared.

He pulled me to him and hugged me tight. He knew there was nothing he could say to make it better, nothing he could do to take back all the things he’d been trying to make me understand this whole time.

The world could be ugly or beautiful, depending on where you found yourself. You could create a little beauty in an ugly place, but in the end, the ugliness would eat it up.

That’s what happened to Sam.

And that’s what was happening to me.

There was a crack in me now, and someday it was going to expand and swallow me whole.

Dylan laid me down on the bed, pulled the covers over our bodies, and kissed me until my lips were sore. He kissed every inch of me, temporarily easing a small piece of the pain. I repaid him in kind, trying to memorise how he gasped in pleasure, how handsome he looked when he gazed at me with love. I did it because soon he’d be gone, and these memories would be all I had left.

I woke up early the next morning to movement. Dylan stood at the foot of my bed, awkwardly trying to dress himself.

“You’re going,” I said, a statement, not a question.

Dylan nodded. “I have a check-up at the hospital, and then I have to visit the passport office.”

“Oh,” I said, sitting up and pulling the covers around me. All of a sudden, I felt so cold.

Dylan stared at me a long moment. “You’re not coming with me, are you?”

I shook my head sadly, my voice no more than a whisper. “No. I’m sorry.”

His expression was tender yet fierce. “Don’t be. Life’s too short to live in regret, Ev. I want you to come with me because I’m selfish, but you need to do what’s best for you. And if that means staying here and finishing school, taking care of your gran, then that’s what you need to do.”

The way he said it, so full of compassion and love, made another piece of my already broken heart break off. I got out of bed, stood before him and placed my hands on each of his shoulders.

“You’re going to thrive out there, do you know that?” I said, sniffling.

“I’m going try my best,” he replied, eyes searching mine.

“You won’t try, you’ll do. I know you will.”

“I’ll miss you,” he said, a catch in his voice. Those three little words held all the emotion of a hundred lifetimes, and we were both in danger of drowning under the weight of them.

“I’ll miss you, too,” I croaked and pulled him into a hug. Tears streamed down my face. I’d cried so much these last few days, I was surprised there were any more left in me.

“And don’t you ever come back here,” I said, squeezing him tight. “If you do I’ll never speak to you again.”

He didn’t comment on the irony of my words. Instead he pulled back to look at me, his expression thoughtful. “This isn’t the end for us. I promise. This is just the in-between. I’ll find you in the after.”

Something in me hoped it was true, because it made it easier to accept him leaving. But another part of me said it was wishful thinking, just my heart clouding my head with foolish notions. Sure, we could try to reconnect, try to stay in touch, but what was the point when I was never leaving this place? I’d only drag him down, and he deserved to fly high.

When I finally let go, I wiped away my tears and mustered a smile just for him.

“Then I’ll see you in the after.”