We walked a slight zig-zag up the uneven concrete sidewalk. It was quiet, out.
The distant hum of light traffic closer to the city centre could be very faintly heard alongside light wind rustling through the wise, old trees that lined the streets of Carlton. Harry's stable steps worked a constant rhythm against my own shaky heeled steps as we occasionally brushed shoulders, sharing the footpath side by side.
I could see the lights of the main road ahead, both from the streetlights and the neon glow from the infamous 24-hour florist that, for my whole adult life, I'd assumed was either a front for money laundering or drug dealing. Surely there weren't enough disgraced husbands or boyfriends in Melbourne desperate enough to need a one AM bunch of peonies to warrant such a business.
A word was yet to be spoken since we had left the venue, exchanging goodbyes with those party-people who had clung onto the celebrations down to the late-night wire.
Someone else's wedding was not the place to make a scene, and so I'd been putting on a tight, forced smile some of the night. The rest of it I'd ended up trying to downplay the more genuine smiles as I was reminded how easily it always was to slip back into Harry.
I'd like think I did well to hide the rollercoaster of emotions I'd felt tonight. But I also knew the festivities, and my responsibilities in the wedding party, served as a distraction from focussing too closely on Harry's surprise arrival.
"A cab'll have to drive by eventually" I told him, stopping at the corner where the street intersected with the main road. I could have walked to my old place, but I was too proud to commit to the barefoot walk home. Walking in stilettos just wasn't an option, I was quick to realise. The venture so far had proved a little painful. Nowhere near as painful as this silence, though.
Harry nodded but didn't speak. His black leather boot casually kicked some loose gravel across the concrete sidewalk as he slowly moved closer to where I'd stopped.
The tight, tailored dress on my body felt particularly constrictive as I stepped into the cobblestone gutter, carefully bending my knees to take a seat.
Harry's hand protectively gripped at the crook of my elbow. He steadied me almost instinctively and it freed a net of butterflies in my stomach I'd tried so hard to contain. I hated that he still made me feel that way. Would it ever subside?
"Thanks" I spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper, as I sat myself firmly on the bluestone of the roads edge with his assistance.
Away from the joy and colour of Sam's wedding, the silence between us was palpable. At the wedding, it was easy to play pretend. But now the odd car would zip past and break that silence, filling in a void that I wished I had the guts to fill myself. But I couldn't.
What was there to say?
Flying halfway across the globe to attend the wedding was a completely obnoxious and unnecessary gesture. And I think he was oblivious to the pressure it then put on me.
What was I meant to do? Jump into his arms and cry tears of joy? Bring him home and kiss every inch of his skin that I undeniably missed so much? Let myself be wrapped up in the gesture enough to forget?
Sure, I could have, but then what?
He'd end up making a promise he couldn't keep and we'd be back to square one again. Harry was a vicious cycle I needed to break. Fool me once and whatnot...
I pulled the small clutch bag I had firmly held under my arm and bought it onto my lap to dig around for a cigarette and a lighter. I didn't necessarily feel like smoking but my nervous shaky hands needed some occupation.
Harry hitched up the legs of his trousers and sat down beside me. His long legs extended out towards the road and his ankles crossed one over the other. His hands in his lap toyed and twisted the assortment of rings on his own fidgeting fingers.
After a few seconds of blindly fumbling in the shallow depths of the clutch bag, I placed a cigarette between my lips and flint the lighter once, and then twice, before it finally took light.
Eyes hooded to a gentle close, I inhaled deeply, relishing in the calm that washed over me as I did.
Maybe I did want a cigarette after all.
I opened my eyes to the empty tram stop ahead of us, exhaling a billowing cloud of white smoke into the cool air. I watched as it danced further above me and then into obscurity.
"Old habits die hard" Harry murmured from my left. I slowly diverted my gaze to find him looking up at the clear sky, littered with tiny white stars.
"Hm?" I'd heard what he'd said loud and clear, only responding because my nerves made me feel like I had to.
His sharp jawline tensed for a second. I could see it as we were softly illuminated from the street lamp beside us. The overhead light highlighted the carefully carved heights of his cheekbones and the sparse, faint stubble that spread across his jaw, evidence of a few days neglecting a shave. His chestnut curls were loose and so effortlessly parted to the side. He still affected me now as much as he did in the beginning that felt like lifetimes ago.
"Nothing, Eve" he then softly sighed, looking down at me beside him.
Behind his soft green eyes, there was a thought, though I couldn't decipher it. A very faint smile curved at his soft lips for a brief moment before he looked upwards and focussed again on the twinkling stars.
I pressed the cigarette to my lips again. I inhaled, feeling the smoke plume down my throat and into my chest, before exhaling that cloud once again. A sheer, cherry red imprint stained the filter as I fixated on it pinched between my fingers. Though the Melbourne winter was coming to an end, the minute the warm sun had set, the bitter breeze felt colder as it cut through the sheer sleeves on my shirt. I shivered.
Without a second thought, Harry edged forward on the gutter and pulled back the lapels on his blazer, shimmying it off his arms behind him.
"Here" he muttered quietly. He draped the black suit jacket over my shoulders, then tugged on the same lapels to try and close it over me. Immediately I was engulfed in a warm, but distant hug from Harry. The heat from a body that I used to hold so close remained entrapped between the layer of the jacket and my own shivering body.
Harrys jacket definitely cost more than my entire outfit. I thought about him having to pack it into his travel bags tomorrow. I didn't want him to have to take it home smelling like smoke and ruining all his other belongings. Like his cologne triggering memories in me, I didn't want him to have to feel that same sadness. I threw my short-lived cigarette down in the gutter ahead of me. My stiletto stamped out the burning orange ember at the end of it, putting it out completely.
I met his gaze and offered a thank you by way of a weak smile, closing the jacket across my front.
"Does he treat you well?"
What is 'well'?
I took a moment to think about it.
By definition, 'well' is 'good'. Although it does imply a low standard. Bare minimum even.
'Well' met the traditional bar I'd set for myself. A bar that wasn't terrible, but also wasn't overwhelmingly positive, either. So, by this definition, Alex treated me well.
I'd had a taste for something of a higher standard. A taste for something that saw me feeling the highest highs. It was all consuming and gentle and patient and loving. But I fucked it. Like I always fuck it. Some things just aren't meant for people like me.
Harry watched my mind tick, lips parted expectingly. His eyes carefully scanned my face like he was intently studying every minuscule flicker of expression.
"As well as I deserve" I returned with a weak shrug of the shoulders.
The long legs he'd had extended out onto the bike path hitched up as he bought his knees up. His elbows rest on them and with a sigh, he ran his fingers back and forth through his curls.
"You know I didn't really mean what I said."
"Didn't you?" I looked to him with defeated eyes. My question was purely rhetorical.
His chin dipped down to his chest as he looked at the cobblestone gutter between his legs. My brows furrowed ever so slightly when I heard him chuckle exhaustedly before he leaned back onto the heels of his palms.
As he was seemingly exasperated, I felt an irritation building in me as we remained silent.
What did he get out of coming here to see me?
"Where are the fucking cabs?" I snapped as I leant forward, scanning the deserted intersection down the road. The sudden strained volume in my voice even startled myself.
What was the fucking point?
Though it was Harry that instigated the immediate distance, I eventually came to feeling thankful for it. I needed it to survive and that was especially evident now as he'd waltzed in and scratched off the scab that had been healing over my heart.
He was just breaking it all over again and I couldn't let him. I used to think I was so in control of that, but I'd since learned: no one could break my heart like Harry. I just wanted to go to bed and sleep.
"I'll just try another Uber" I resigned with a sigh to which Harry responded with a quiet hum.
I pulled my phone from the small clutch bag. The bright screen-light was blinding in the darkness of the night. I quickly swiped down from the top of the screen to adjust it to a dim level. We hadn't touched on where he was staying and he offered no guidance or suggestion as he watched me open up the Uber app. I put in my old address. He could decide what he wanted to do when the time came.
"Fifteen...fucking hell" I groaned softly, accepting the wait time and ride surcharge on screen.
"That's fine" he murmured, rising from the curb. In my peripherals I could see him dusting off his palms on the front of his trousers as he stood. He took a step back onto the footpath and lingered for a moment.
I shoved my phone back into my open bag and began removing each of my silver rings for something to do. So lost in my own swimming mind, I only noticed he'd moved when I heard the faint footsteps along the concrete.
"Where are you going?"
"Water" he said bluntly, pointing towards the florist that also doubled as a late-night cafe. Another part of it's suspicious business operations, no doubt.
My legs started to jiggle restlessly as I nodded, returning my gaze to the abandoned tram stop to take my earrings out.
I was finally feeling like Evie again. Over the past few weeks I'd felt like I'd reclaimed myself, even after the hiccup of Italy.
Why did he have to show up?
My hands firmly held the reigns. I had taken back control of my emotions. Though arguably, I'd just shut them away to unpack at a later time when it became detrimental to deal with them. But still, it was progress.
Good progress? Bad progress? It was just 'well' progress and for me, that was ok.
I heard the footsteps re-approaching as I checked the ETA on the Uber app, again. I didn't look up at him, even when he thrust a plastic bottle of water down into my line of sight. "Thanks" I accepted it in a mutter. He crouched down, sitting on the curb again before extending his legs ahead of him.
"What colour are your glasses now, Eve?"
It took a minute for me to understand his question. In our time together we'd developed a sort of language that only he and I would truly understand. I toyed with the cap on the open bottle of water in my hands. I knew the answer but it hurt my heart that he'd ask. I couldn't stand to look at him so my gaze remained strongly ahead.
"Are you happy?"
There it was again. That damn question. It was loaded like a revolver pressed to my chest. My hammering heart beat against the barrel. I side-eyed him for a moment to find him staring blankly ahead also. He seemed less combative asking the question now. He almost seemed contemplative.
"Are you happy, Harry? Are any of us fucking happy?"
He chuckled softly, head dipping down again. Curls fell down towards the dusty cobblestones beneath us.
"Whisky."
With narrowed, puzzled eyes I watched his side profile.
"... the Rolling Stones..." he continued.
I let our a very quiet, humourless laugh "What are you on about?"
"...pink roses" he then added, clutching a bunch wrapped in a clear plastic. He pulled them from his side, they'd been hidden. I didn't notice he'd purchased them. "They all remind me of you" he continued, tossing them into my lap.
I grabbed at them. The plastic wrapping crunched softly beneath my finger tips as I stared at them with puzzled, parted lips.
"Can't we just both wear those rose coloured lenses, Eve?"
My eyelids fluttered closed and I took in a deep, grounding breath.
I would have loved to. But those glasses weren't my prescription. And inevitably he'd take off his, too.
"I can't be your girlfriend, Harry. I'm a mess..."
With another humourless chuckle, his chin was still dipped but he turned his head ever so slightly to look at me with a weak smirk that puzzled me even further.
"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"
"Of course" he nodded, leaning back on his palms with a sigh. "You're telling me in an oh so delightful way that it's over."
"I think we've- you have - established that already..."
"The thing is Evie, you might be a mess, and I might be misguided...but I'm obsessed with you."
"Then be my friend, Harry" I groaned. "Let's find a middle ground that works...and stick with it."
"No, crazy" he smiled, gently shaking his head. "I want to do things to you that I can't do to my friends."
Oh, for fucks sake. This was the tequila talking.
"And you wont be happy with him. Ever" he continued.
Fuck off. Stop it.
I couldn't conjure up words to respond but my eyes dragged a roll.
"Eyes, Evie" he warned semi-playfully, slapping at my thigh. "I don't know...I just-I think you'll always be mine in the back of my mind."
Saved by the buzz of my phone, I saw the Uber was approaching up ahead.
"Cars here" I murmured, shoving my phone back into my bag.
Harry stood quickly, extending a hand that i begrudgingly accepted.
As the red sedan approached, he stepped off the curb and opened the back door for me.
"I guess you're coming home with me then" I assumed. My tone was exhausted.
"Mh-m" he nodded with a solemn smile that saw me sigh as I slipped into the vehicle. He gently closed the door beside me and rounded the back of the car to get into the opposing side.
Curve ball after fucking curveball, man.