EIGHTY-ONE | FORGOTTEN

He was silent for a long time, as if weighing up a hundred different answers – all of them circling around the ugly truth. His fingers were still against mine, and he gazed with a blank expression out across the sea. The colours warped and fragmented as they deepened, pastel pinks and oranges blooming into resplendent, bright beams of rose and tangerine. Rather than watch Cyrus holding the muscles in his face taut – too taut, controlled – I too looked out at the shimmering water.

Eventually, through tight lips, he spoke. “Yes.” It was as though the dam had burst with that single word. “Yes, I made you forget. It was a mistake – a mistake to take you on that date, knowing how desperately I wanted to be honest with you, and knowing the consequences of my honesty. I – Callie, I wanted to learn where you stood, without having to face the repercussions of my curiosity. I… apologise.” He swallowed any furthe