I stood by the bus stop in the rain, no other choice but to get soaked. I made the mistake of leaving the house without an umbrella, so it was my own fault really. It was rush hour, and the shelter was already full of people huddled under, trying not to get wet.

Currently, I was working as a supermarket cashier. It wasn’t the most exciting job in the world, but at least I got a discount on groceries.

Yeah, not very glamourous, but life wasn’t glamourous, not for the hoi polloi. Weirdly, I used to think that meant the upper classes, then Yvonne told me it was Greek for the common people, the rank and file. I guessed, because it sounded a little like ‘high people’ I made the wrong assumption.

Anyway, that was me. Your average worker bee, plodding her way through life, dissatisfied and a little sad, but not dissatisfied and sad enough to make a change. To be honest, happiness seemed like a lie made up by fairy tales and self-help books. Now my eyes were open to all the dark corners that hovered around the light.

Like the dementors in Harry Potter, they waited for their chance to swallow you up. That’s why I didn’t bother trying for anything good. Good things were only taken away.

Like Sam.

I shook myself out of my dreary thoughts and wriggled my toes around in my soaked shoes. I looked forward to stripping off and sinking into a nice, warm bath as soon as I got home. Yvonne worked tonight, so I’d have the place to myself. I’d pop a ready meal in the microwave, and maybe even open a bottle of wine . . .

“Evelyn?”

I blinked, distracted from my plans for the evening when I heard my name. I glanced up and my jaw dropped. Dylan? He held a large black umbrella and wore a dark winter coat and woollen hat. It was hard to make him out past the fat drops of rain obscuring my vision. They pooled in my eyebrows and fell into my eyes.

I blinked some more and stared at him. I hadn’t seen him in over three years. When he first left for the U.S., he’d sent monthly letters keeping me updated on how things were going. It was so Dylan to do something completely old school like that. Still, I never wrote back. I knew it sounded cruel, but staying in touch only prolonged the pain for both of us. Eventually, he got the message and quit writing.

In a way, I was disappointed.

In another way, I was relieved.

No contact was so much better than getting sneak peeks of his new life and feeling down that I wasn’t with him.

Finally, I managed to get some words out. “Dylan, my goodness, what a surprise.”

He lifted a thumb and pointed over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m, uh, staying at the hotel across the street. It’s great to see you.”

“You, too,” I breathed, though great wasn’t the right word. Startled was a better one. The hotel he pointed to didn’t look so fancy. In fact, it was downtrodden and old, the brickwork in need of a new paint job. Maybe life wasn’t going as successfully for Dylan as I often imagined it was.

His gaze followed mine and he grimaced. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Hey, I still live at the Villas. I’m in no position to judge.”

His lips twitched as his gaze travelled down my drenched body and back up. I was overly aware of the raindrop that sat at the tip of my nose. I wanted to wipe it away, but I was too self-conscious to do it with Dylan staring at me.

When I didn’t speak again he said, “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing here?”

No, Dylan, I’m not, because I’m too embarrassed to be standing here in the lashing rain, wearing my cashier’s uniform, cheap shoes, and name tag.

I felt so small. Why did you bump into old flames when you looked your absolute worst? It was one of God’s twisted celestial algorithms that made it happen to everyone at least once in their lives.

I cleared my scratchy throat and asked what he wanted me to ask. “What are you doing here?”

Dylan smiled, completely at ease. He didn’t look at all uncomfortable or frazzled like I was sure I did, even with the fact that he was staying in a crappy hotel. He stepped closer so that his umbrella sheltered me, an unexpected and kind gesture. “I came back to visit Dad,” he replied. “He’s still living in Galway with his brother, got a job down there and everything. I took the train here last night.”

“Are you staying long?” I questioned further, curious now.

He shoved one hand in his pocket. “Just for another two days. It’s Conor’s college graduation tomorrow, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.” He paused, handsome eyes grazing my features. “And of course, I was going to come pay you a visit.”

“You were?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I swallowed, feeling guilty. “I just thought, since I never replied to your letters—”

“Ev, I understand why you didn’t write,” he said, eyes full of compassion.

But it still hurt, didn’t it?

It certainly hurt me not to reply. I cleared my throat and stared up at him. “Yes, well, I hope everything’s going well for you in LA. I mean, you’ve got a tan now, so it must be going okay at least,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Why don’t we go over to my hotel, and I’ll make you some tea. We can have a catch up?”

The offer took me by surprise, and I glanced around for a better option. Strangely, I did want to catch up. I just didn’t want to do it in the confines of what was sure to be a tiny hotel room. “How about we go to the café down the street instead?” I suggested and pointed a few buildings down.

Dylan’s cheeks coloured as he realised how his invitation sounded. “Right, yes, sorry, let’s go to the café,” he said and offered me his arm.

I linked mine through his and internally freaked out at how close we were. I could smell his cologne, faint as it was. When we reached the café, Dylan shook out his umbrella and left it by the door. I quickly excused myself to the bathroom to dry off and have a private little freak out.

He looks as gorgeous as ever.

You look like a drowned rat.

But he’s staying in that hotel.

He can’t be doing that well for himself.

And it’s not like I need to care what I look like.

We’re not together anymore, nor will we be ever again.

Just go out there, chat like a normal person, and wish him well with the rest of his life.

When I returned, Dylan sat at a table reading the menu. I lowered myself into a chair and clasped my hands together. “So—”

“What can I get you two?” a waitress interrupted, and I flushed for no apparent reason.

“I’ll have tea,” Dylan answered.

“Yes, tea for me, too,” I said, then added, “Oh, and a scone, please.”

The waitress left and I looked back to Dylan. “They have really nice scones here.”

He smiled. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Was the flight awful? It must be terribly long to come from California,” I said. If I just kept asking mundane questions, maybe I’d relax more.

“It was a little under eleven hours, but I kept busy. Boredom is the real challenge on long flights.”

“Did you watch any movies? I hear they have TV screens on the seat in front of you with a choice of films.” Dylan’s gaze softened. He must’ve thought me terribly quaint now that he was living over there, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I’d never been on a long-haul flight.

“Yeah, there are screens. I prefer to bring a good book with me though. If I start reading at the beginning of the flight, I can be almost finished by the time I arrive at my destination.”

“What did you read?”

“The new Stephen King.”

“Oh, I heard that’s a real page turner.”

Dylan nodded. “I enjoyed it.”

Silence fell and I scrambled for something else to say. The waitress came with our order, and I busied myself spreading jam on my scone.

“How’s Yvonne and your gran?” Dylan asked, eyes never leaving me. I was distinctly irritated by how much more relaxed he was.

“Yvonne’s good. She’s going to New York in the summer. Gran is as good as can be expected, but I’m starting to feel like the home’s not a good fit for her anymore. I’m considering having her move in with me after Yvonne leaves, but I still need to figure out the logistics.”

Dylan’s brows furrowed. “Won’t that be a lot of work?”

“There’s a carer’s allowance I can apply for so I can care for her full-time.”

“Those allowances are notoriously low, Ev.”

“Well, I don’t mind that. So long as we have enough to get by.”

His brows furrowed even deeper and I got the sense he wanted to say something but was holding back.

“What?” I asked.

Dylan looked out the window a moment then back to me. “I just think you can do better.”

“Who’s to say caring isn’t doing better? It’s one of the most important jobs a person can commit to. It’s society’s fault for belittling it and making it so low paid.”

His expression gentled. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry for saying that.”

I frowned and clasped my hands around my teacup. “Anyway, tell me about LA. Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

He rubbed his jaw. “It’s certainly different. I knew it was going to be hard over there, but I may have underestimated just how difficult. I’m trying to start my own business, and I’m full of ideas, but getting together the start-up capital has been tricky.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll convince some banker to lend you the money.”

Dylan’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Great pep talk.”

“You’re welcome.” I grinned and ate a bite of my scone.

We were quiet for a little while, just letting the sounds of the busy café wash over us. I couldn’t stop looking at him every chance I got. I was fixated by the way his tight-fitting jumper hugged his arms, how his sandy hair curled at the temples. When he caught me looking, I flushed and fiddled with my napkin.

“Why don’t you come with me to Conor’s tomorrow night? He and some of his college roommates are having a party at their flat to celebrate graduating.”

I shook my head. “Oh, no I couldn’t—”

“Ev, I’m leaving in two days, and who knows when I’ll be back to visit again. It could be years. Just give me one night.”

Man, he was hard to resist, especially with those gorgeous eyes of his pleading with me to say yes. I exhaled. “I don’t get off work until eight tomorrow.”

“Eight is fine. I’ll pick you up outside.”

“How do you know—?”

He motioned to my name tag, which had the name of the supermarket at the top. Right. I let out another long breath. “Okay, but I can’t stay long.”

“We’ll be there three hours, tops,” he said, smiling wide because he’d won me over.

“Two hours,” I corrected and stood, pulling out some money to pay for my tea and scone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dylan lounged back, his expression effortlessly sexy as he watched me go. “See you tomorrow, Evelyn.”

What, oh what was I getting myself into?

* * *

I brought a change of clothes to work with me, hoping to have enough time to change and do my make-up before Dylan arrived to pick me up. I was about two hours into my shift when I saw him walk through the sliding glass doors. What the hell was he doing here already? It was only three o’clock.

I continued to scan items, watching him before he noticed me. He looked around, eyes skimming the newspaper headlines before they headed my direction. My breath caught, and in that moment I knew. I was in trouble. I was so determined to keep my emotions out of this unexpected reunion, but I couldn’t help it. My heart beat fast and my palms tingled just remembering how I’d linked my arm through his yesterday. How without a word he’d sheltered me from the rain with his umbrella. It was little gestures like those that were just so Dylan.

He waited until I was done with my customer to approach, his smile sheepish. “I know we agreed eight o’clock, but I just wanted to stop by and bring you this.” He held out a takeaway cup and a paper bag. I took both items shyly and opened the bag. It was tea and one of the same scones I’d had yesterday.

Flutters invaded my insides.

It was a simple gesture, but it really got to me. Maybe because my life had been devoid of any kind gestures for a while now.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

God, was I going to cry? I needed to get my shit together.

Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes intent on mine. “Right, well, I guess I’ll see you later then.”

I nodded. “Yep, see you later.”

I held my breath until he walked out the door. Michelle, one of my co-workers at the next till, shot me a grin, “That your boyfriend?”

“Ex,” I said.

She let out a low whistle. “If I had a fella who looked like that I wouldn’t have let him go for all the tea in China.”

No, Michelle, I don’t believe you would.

Sometimes, unfortunately, you had to do away with selfishness and let people go, for their own sake if nothing else. I sipped on my tea and continued taking customers, saving the scone for my break.

Later on, while slipping into a little black dress and heels in the bathroom next to the staff locker room, I wondered if I should just cancel. I was nervous for two reasons. One, because at the age of twenty-one, I’d never actually been to a college party, and two, because I was in danger of doing something silly if I had too much to drink.

Like kissing my ex-boyfriend.

Probably best to stick to Coke tonight.

I let my hair down and put on some make-up. When I was done, I shoved the rest of my things in my locker and put on my coat. The night-time chill tickled at my ears and the tip of my nose when I stepped outside. Dylan stood next to a lamppost waiting for me, handsome as ever.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed.

I swallowed a lump of nerves. “You haven’t even seen my outfit yet.”

He shook his head. “Don’t need to.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I simply rubbed my hands together and glanced down the street.

“I thought we’d take a taxi,” Dylan said as he came and took my arm, linking it through his just like yesterday.

“S-sounds good.”

A few minutes later, we sat next to each other in the back seat, neither one of us speaking. I focused on the lights of the city rushing by and not on the fact that Dylan’s hand rested on the seat, mere inches from mine. This felt so odd. Three years ago, we saw each other every single day, but then he was gone. It was hard to adjust to being around him, especially since he was leaving tomorrow.

It made me unreasonably sad.

My heart wished for a world where he brought me tea and scones at work every day, where I got to wear nice clothes and get taken to parties. But my head knew it would never be with Dylan. Maybe with some other guy, but not with him.

Dylan still had so much to achieve. I could feel it.

We arrived outside a house in Portobello and headed inside. The front door was already open, people idling in the hallway and staircase, music playing from a speaker somewhere inside. I didn’t know anyone, so I stood close to Dylan. He must’ve sensed my nervousness, because he silently slid his fingers through mine and held my hand. I glanced at him, and a whoosh of air fled my lungs. Dylan’s gaze was full of tenderness. It felt like a lifetime ago that he last looked at me that way.

“Dylan!” came a familiar voice, and Conor emerged from the kitchen into the hallway. He looked about the same as the last time I saw him, though admittedly he didn’t hang around the Villas much anymore. He was a college student now, had all his college student buddies to hang out with. He wore the remnants of a suit, jacket gone, tie askew. It was clear he’d already had a few drinks, judging by his crooked, tipsy smile.

“Hey, where’s your gown?” Dylan teased. “Are you sure you graduated?”

“You only rent them, you don’t take them home with you,” Conor slurred. He stepped forward and pulled Dylan into a hug, causing him to lose grip on my hand.

“It’s so great to see you!”

“Great to see you, too,” Dylan said with a chuckle as he patted Conor on the back.

Conor’s attention came to me, his smile huge. “And Evelyn’s here. It’s been ages.” Then to Dylan, “So, you went straight to her place, huh?”

Dylan widened his eyes meaningfully at Conor and carefully cleared his throat. “No, we actually bumped into each other in town.”

“Oh, but remember on the phone you said—”

“Why don’t you show me and Ev where the drinks are,” Dylan interrupted, and I wondered what was up.

“Keg’s this way,” Conor replied, and we followed him into the kitchen. After he supplied us both with beers, he went to do the rounds with the rest of the partygoers, leaving me and Dylan alone. We stood in a corner of the kitchen, which was quieter than the rest of the house.

“So,” I said, glancing around. “This is what college life looks like.”

Dylan arched a brow. “First impressions?”

“A lot messier than I imagined.”

“Five blokes live here,” he replied, as though that explained it.

“Not all men are messy. I remember your bedroom used to be so neat and tidy.”

Dylan arched a brow and smirked. “You remember my bedroom, eh?”

I flushed, because we’d spent quite a few evenings making out in there . . . and other stuff. I punched him gently on the arm. “Don’t.”

Dylan tipped his beer to his mouth and winked. “Can’t help it. Good memories.”

My tummy fizzled, but I didn’t respond. After a second I asked, “What did Conor mean about you coming straight to my place?”

His expression sobered. “I was hoping you didn’t catch that.”

“Why?”

He seemed edgy, red tinting his cheeks. “Visiting my dad and Conor wasn’t the main reason I came back, Ev.”

My chest ached at his confession. I asked a question, but was pretty sure I already knew the answer. “What was the main reason?”

He looked all about the room, not meeting my eyes when he spoke. “To see you.”

My heart pounded at his quiet intensity. “Oh.”

He turned, stepping closer to me. My back hit the wall. “I was hoping you’d feel differently than you did three years ago.”

“Differently?” I whispered. He was so close now, and his breath on my skin made it tingle. I wanted to touch him, run my hands across the solid lines of his shoulders. Instead, I stayed completely still.

“I want you to come back with me,” he breathed, eyes flickering between mine, searching. He exhaled heavily. “But I know you won’t.”

Not won’t, Dylan. Can’t.

I frowned and chewed on my lip. “I’m, um, just going to use the bathroom.” I had to get out of there for a minute.

He caught me by the elbow. “Are you leaving?”

“No, of course not. I just need a minute.”

He studied me, then let go. “Okay. Take your time.”

I went upstairs and found the bathroom occupied. I slumped against the wall, because I didn’t really need to go anyway. Dylan came back for me. Three years ago, I told him to never come back. I was grieving and emotional, and I didn’t really mean it. In all honesty, I felt over the moon that he still wanted me. But it was pointless. I couldn’t go to America just as much as I couldn’t three years ago.

When I went back downstairs, Dylan was in the living room. He sat on the couch, still nursing his beer. I sat on the arm next to him, because there were two guys on the other side having a deep and very drunken conversation. I could tell by how loud they were being.

“Hey,” I murmured.

“Hey,” he replied, eyes finding mine.

“Can we just—”

“Listen, Ev—”

We both spoke at once. I exhaled and looked at him kindly, starting over. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy tonight, okay? No worries, no obligations, just, you know, appreciate each other’s company.”

Dylan smiled and reached out to take my hand. He wrapped his fingers around mine, squeezing tight. “Sounds good to me.”

I didn’t have anywhere to sit, so I stayed on the arm of the chair. I didn’t drink any more alcohol, because with how I was feeling, I knew it was a bad idea to get drunk. Then three of Conor’s friends came into the room and began performing a comedy skit for everyone. Apparently, they were a comedy trio in their spare time. The skit was actually pretty funny, and at one point I was in a fit of laughter. I wiped a tear from my eye and glanced over at Dylan to see if he was laughing, too.

He wasn’t.

His attention was so fixed on me. I might as well have been the only person in the room. His smile was intimate, and he reached out to take my hand. He pulled me over to sit on his lap, and I stiffened.

His hand covered my knee as he whispered in my ear, “Just for tonight, Ev.”

Okay, Dylan, just for tonight.

For the next hour or so, we didn’t speak much. Conor’s college friends were far too entertaining, so there wasn’t much need for conversation. Dylan wrapped his arms around my waist, his thumb brushing at the fabric of my dress. Tingles skittered down my spine, while Conor dropped down next to us, drunkenly telling us all about the master’s programme he’d gotten into like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He barely noticed how Dylan was making subtle work of seducing me in a melting pile of goo.

Just being close to him, his breath on my neck, was enough to arouse me to stratospheric levels.

Despite all the heightened sexual tension, I did actually manage to have a good time. It felt like the first time in forever that I’d just allowed myself to enjoy something.

It was around midnight when Dylan went to grab our coats. He called a taxi, and we said our goodbyes to Conor.

“Two stops, please,” I said to the driver as we slid in the back.

Dylan’s hotel was the first stop. He’d been quiet on the drive, and I wondered if he felt sad that our brief time was over, because I knew I did. When the taxi stopped outside his hotel, he softly gripped my hand and said, “Come up. Just for a little bit.”

Wordlessly, I nodded. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet. Dylan paid the driver and helped me out. We were both silent as we ascended in the hotel’s rickety lift. Reaching Dylan’s floor, I stepped out and he led me down the hall. As expected, his room was tiny. There was a bed, a dresser, and a TV in the far corner.

I stood by the bed, unsure if I should take off my coat. Dylan took his off then turned to look at me. His eyes traced my features, lingering for too long on my lips. If he didn’t stop staring at me like that, I was going to kiss him.

He stepped closer and with careful fingers unzipped my coat and slid it down my shoulders. He threw it on the bed and took a second to just . . . take me in. All pretences were gone. We both knew I hadn’t come up here for tea and friendly conversation.

He brought his hand to my neck, sliding up to cup my jaw. I exhaled heavily at his touch, and then his mouth was on mine, lips caressing my lips. I moaned when he slid his tongue inside, and suddenly we were on the bed. Dylan braced himself above me, both of us full of need. He ran his hand down the side of my body then pushed my skirt up to my belly. He swiftly unbuckled his belt and opened his fly. I grasped at his pants, pushing them down.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked breathlessly.

I nodded. “Yes, but we still need—”

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he blurted and I froze, stunned.

I hadn’t been with anyone either. I only stayed on the pill because it helped with my periods, but Dylan . . .

A lone, unexpected tear ran down my cheek as I whispered, “Me neither.”

Dylan’s expression mirrored my own. What a fine pair we made. Everything had been so wonderfully effortless between us, so perfect that we’d ruined each other for anyone else. Without another word, he pulled my underwear down just enough and pushed inside me. I gasped at how he filled me and closed my eyes to bury my face in his neck. Dylan’s thrusts were hard and fast, somehow fucking me and making love to me all at once.

His mouth found mine, and he kissed me with so much passion I felt like I might burst with it. He broke the kiss and held my eyes when he came.

He was so bloody beautiful.

“I love you, Ev,” he breathed.

That was it. He was going to break me. More tears streamed down my face. Dylan made soothing noises, kissed away my tears. By the time morning light streamed through the curtains, I was certain he’d kissed every inch of my body. I lay next to him, the sounds of his deep breathing filling the room as he slept, and knew I had to leave.

Last night had been the perfect goodbye. I didn’t want to sully it with an awkward, possibly regretful morning after. As quietly as I could manage, I climbed out of bed and got dressed. I stared at Dylan while he slept and knew there was something I needed to say to him. I just didn’t have the courage to do it in person.

There was no paper in the room, no pens either. I managed to find a pencil and an unused envelope in my bag. On the back of the envelope, I wrote a message.

Dylan,

Last night was beautiful. Thank you for giving that to me. As I’m writing this, I miss you already, and you’re so close to me, fast asleep. I want to tell you that I think you’re incredible. You’re clever and talented and caring and people deserve to know you. So please, don’t hang on to the past. When you go back to LA, start living your life, meet people, get laid, make mistakes, and fall in love.

And if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me.

Love always,

Evelyn.

I blinked and a tear fell down, staining the paper. I placed the note on the dresser, then quietly left the room. When I got outside, the cold morning air assaulted me, and my heart felt like someone had beaten it with a meat tenderiser. The bus driver gave me a funny look, as I hopped on the 151 that would take me home, my face red from crying. I’d meant everything I said in that note, and now I truly knew how it felt to do something selfless.

Because letting Dylan go a second time was the most painful, heartbreaking thing in the world.