I stared at him for a long moment, lost for words. These days he was continually surprising me with his depth, with how much time he took to really think about things, to look at himself and his life through an analytical lens.

He glanced down and I followed his gaze to where his palms rested face up on his lap, gasping when I saw the bloody scrapes. He must’ve gotten them from the jump he took earlier. His landing had been pretty bumpy.

“Shit, Trev, those look bad. We should go back to the apartment and get you cleaned up.”

“I’m not going back there. I don’t need Barry breathing down my neck and giving me grief about today.”

“I’m sure he’s calmed down by now,” I said and gave his elbow a small squeeze.

Trev stared out at the water then turned to look at me again. “Why did you come here, Reya?”

There was such raw vulnerability in his eyes that I had to swallow down the lump in my throat before I could answer. “I came because I care about you.”

“But I screwed everything up. That shit today was straight out of my old playbook. I keep telling you I’ve changed but then I go and prove myself a liar. I’ve been trying so hard, but it’s just exhausting.”

I remembered his conversation with his doctor this morning, when he said he was exhausted from trying to stay on track all the time. Feeling like he was changing, but at the same time struggling with his inner self. I didn’t want him to feel like that, like he always had to behave a certain way, or hide his true self just to satisfy me. That couldn’t be further from what I wanted.

I’d wanted him to be different, yes, but that was before I knew how difficult it was for him. Living in constant fear of regression was no way to live. And I hated myself for being one of the people he felt he had to change for.

The revelation struck me that I didn’t really want him to change, not the core of who he was anyway. Because that was the person I’d fallen for in the beginning, and I didn’t think I’d ever get over that mischievous blue-eyed boy, no matter how much I tried.

I loved his unpredictability.

I got off on his wildness and spontaneity.

And I adored how he always surprised me with what came out of his mouth.

I just hadn’t been able to live with the instability that came with all those things.

“You don’t need to change,” I said, moving my hand from his elbow to rest on his thigh. His expression was unsure, questioning. “I like who you are. I like who you’ve always been.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t. Two years ago you hated me. You wanted me out of your life for good.”

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I liked everything about you. I just couldn’t be with you because I couldn’t rely on you. I could’ve lived the rest of my life by your side, with you jumping off buildings and doing handstands on top of phone booths, just so long as you came home to me at the end of the day.”

His expression sobered, his eyes flickering between mine. “But I didn’t come home.”

“No,” I breathed. “You didn’t.” Because you were too entrenched in your own struggles, my mind added. I used to wonder if I wasn’t enough for him, wasn’t good enough. I was just a normal girl and he was like a butterfly, coming to rest on your hand, wowing you with its beautiful colours, but then flittering away again. Now I knew it wasn’t so cut and dried. There might have been beauty on the outside, but there was turmoil on the inside. That turmoil was what made him so unreliable when reliability was what I needed. He could be as wild and free as he wanted so long as he was constant for me.

He looked deep in thought when he moved to climb off the wall. I took a step back and eyed the gravel marks on his trousers and how his hair was all mussed up.

He met my eyes and I held my hand out. “Come on. You must be hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

He laced his fingers with mine, his skin rough and blistered. I didn’t mind though. I just wanted some kind of connection, anything. No words were spoken as we walked along the bridge, heading for the street. Trev glanced down at our hands for a second, exhaled, then stared ahead again.

We found a small bistro to have dinner in, and the waiter was kind enough to get me a first aid kit so I could clean Trev’s hands. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he watched me work. There was something about his silence that heightened the tension between us, and the way he watched my fingers made my stomach clench.

When we sat down to order I went with the risotto, while Trev asked for the beef bourguignon. His quietness put me on edge. Trev wasn’t one to sit still and be quiet often. I wanted to fill the void but I couldn’t think of anything to talk about. In the end, it was Trev who broke the silence.

“You ever hear from your family these days?”

A brick sank in my gut. I didn’t want to sit in silence but I didn’t exactly want to talk about my family either. “Nope. It’s same old story with them,” I answered on a sigh.

Trev’s expression grew contemplative. “Did you try to get in touch with them?”

I tensed, because his question hit a sore spot. When I spoke my voice was quiet. “I emailed my sister about a year ago to see if she wanted to meet up. I even included my new phone number, but I never heard anything back.”

Trev exhaled. “Fuck, Reya. I’m sorry. She’s an arsehole.”

I sniffed. “She isn’t. She’s just scared. Her whole life she’s worked for my parents at their restaurant. She doesn’t know anything else. She thinks if she starts having contact with me that my parents will shut her out and she’ll have nowhere else to go.”

“Does she still live with them?”

“I think so.”

“What about your brothers?”

I shook my head. “They’re both married with kids. Paula’s the only one who still lives at home, though for all I know she could be married and moved out by now. I have no real way to keep up with their lives.”

Trev exhaled heavily, his compassionate gaze wandering over me. “Well, you’re probably better off. They don’t deserve any of your time.”

I fiddled with my place setting. “Deserve has nothing to do with it. Even when I hate them I still love them. That’s fucked up, right?”

Trev shook his head. “No, I get it. When Mum was alive, I used to feel so angry at her, because she constantly chose drugs over us. But then some weeks she’d get clean and I’d instantly forget the anger. I was just over the moon to have her back to normal and would forgive her for all the shit she pulled before.”