Free Falling Sky by Lisa Swallow Page B

you.”
    I nod because I don’t want to respond and trigger my tears again.
    “You look exhausted, maybe go to bed?” he suggests, smoothing my tangled hair.
    “I don’t think I could sleep, my mind is already planning the day. You get some rest.”
    “That’s the best sleep I’ve had in months,” he says quietly.
    “On the sofa?”
    “I’m not sleeping well; I guess I’ve found the answer to my insomnia.”
    I pull my brows together and he leans toward me, placing his lips on mine in a gentle kiss before drawing back again. “You in my arms.”
    The stupid, annoying tears return and Dylan holds my face, wiping them with his thumb. “You’ve cried enough without me bringing more.”
    I want to tell him how many times I’ve cried over the loss of my Dylan from the sea, the one replaced by the rapist who walked away rather than explain. I want to share the way my chest hurt, as if my heart was ripped from me and taken with him when he left, and how an emptiness I’d never noticed before had consumed the void where my heart had been.
    “I’m going to get changed,” I say, aware from his gaze he’s about to kiss me.
    Dylan drops his hand and kisses my forehead. “When you’re done, tell me how I can help.”

    ****

    I shower in a bathroom as big as my entire flat. The marble bath set into the centre of the mosaic floor tempts me but I don’t want Dylan to come looking for me. Once I’m dressed, I’m refreshed physically but mentally exhausted. I’m not sure I can face the day yet, as if letting go of the last few months has taken all my energy. I walk back to the area I left Dylan and he’s on the phone. As I approach, he smiles and holds a hand up the way people do when they’re on the phone and don’t want interrupting.
    “Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I’ll talk to Sky about this first.”
    I sit opposite him, distracted as always by his presence; sucked into him. He cancels the call and smiles at me.
    “You look brighter.”
    “Liar, but thanks.”
    “Did you want to go back to your flat? Or stay away?”
    “Did Steve manage to get the place locked up? Are the rest of my things are safe?”
    “Yeah. Someone’s dropping a new key round later; did you want to go back?”
    My stomach turns over at the loneliness the trashed place represents and how hiding in Dylan’s high security world appeals to my need for safety. “Is it okay for me to sleep here for another night or two..."
    Dylan laughs. “Sure, this place is a bit bigger than the last one we were forced to share.”
    “Just a bit.”
    “Besides, I’m not letting you spend Christmas on your own.”
    “I keep forgetting it’s almost Christmas.”
    “Weird day yesterday.”
    “Weird few months.” He bites his lip and looks away, so I hastily add, “Did you have Christmas plans? I’ll get out of here before then. I don’t want to be in the way.”
    Dylan flips his phone over in his hands. “I hate Christmas. I’m a total Scrooge. Or have been since I was about twelve. Besides, I don’t have any family to visit and Christmas is for families, right?”
    No family, at twenty-four he should have family around. I doubt this is something he wants to talk about from his distant expression.
    “And kids and you’re a big kid.”
    Dylan pouts and I fight back a smile. “True. But Christmas still sucks.”
    I survey the room; the huge Christmas tree in one corner, small gifts underneath, tastefully decorated. “Why do you have a tree then?”
    “Myf. She wanted me to have Christmas with her and Miles, but I’m not interested.”
    “Have a non-Christmas.”
    “Christmas is just another day to me, but I think it means more to you?” asks Dylan.
    “I think the Christmas thing is the reinforcement of how everything is different now. How life has changed this year.”
    Dylan studies me and we both know I’m referring to Grant too. “You know what happens after Christmas?”
    “Stomach-aches and crash diets?”
    “Funny, Sky. I