~Trigger warning for content ahead: death of a parent~

I don't say anything. I can tell he's trying to find the right words, and I don't want to interrupt that.

"We came to Crete every year when I was a kid," he says finally, staring out at the clear teal water. "And we would always make a trip down here - it was my dad's favourite place in the world." I watch him swallow hard. Note the use of past tense.

"Was?" I ask softly.

"He . . . was diagnosed with cancer when I was 14," he says in a rush, like he won't tell me if he doesn't just blurt it out. "We were meant to come out that year, too. It was all booked, but we had to cancel it so he could go through his first round of treatment." His fingers drum restlessly on the beach towel below him. "So this is the first time I've been in Crete since . . . that all happened, and I guess being in Matala in particular brings some painful memories back. I guess the last time I was here was the last time I really felt like a carefree kid."

I find myself inhaling sharply. "You should have said, Lewis. We didn't need to come here."

"I've been dreading this trip a little, ever since I spotted it on the itinerary," he says quietly. "But conversely, I also wanted to come. I wanted to remember the good things. Once upon a time, it was my favourite place, too." He chokes out a laugh, nodding out to the sea. "If I close my eyes, I can almost picture my mum and dad messing about in the water right there in front of me. We were so fucking carefree then, and they were so bloody in love. It was pretty sickening actually. My mum was devastated when . . ." He trails off and buries his face in his hands.

I feel my own eyes welling up with tears. I don't know what to say or do. My hand reaches out involuntarily to stroke his shoulder - anything to comfort him, and I hear him sigh. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "You don't have to talk about it yet if you don't want to. But if you do . . . I'm here, just like I said I would be."

"Thanks Ruby." He straightens up, and I see his own eyes are damp too. My heart aches for him. "I don't know if I want to talk about it, but I think I need to. It was such a shitshow of a time, and I don't know if I ever really fully processed it. From that first diagnosis, it was just a blur of hospital visits and chemo and almost consistent bad news. My mum was already falling apart, and my dad was trying so hard to be brave . . . And I just felt so useless. All I could do was my best to cheer them up, make them laugh. It felt like that was the only thing I was good at: playing the clown. Some things don't change, eh?" His laugh is bitter now.

I think back to young Lewis in my mind. Always the joker. Hiding his pain. I'd suspected he had demons, and now I realise what they were.

"You're more than that," I insist forcefully. "You always were."

I feel his body jolt slightly at my last sentence, my accidental slip-up at that shared past he doesn't seem to recall. But he doesn't comment on it, just raises a hand to swipe at his eyes, and gazes out to sea again.

"To the outside world, I probably had it relatively together, but inside, I was in pieces too. I tried to numb the pain: distracting myself with underage drinking, smoking hash, doing stupid things to get cheap laughs, or for shock value. That part came to a head when we were caught trying to steal a teacher's car!" He shakes his head. "Luckily it was one of the nicer teachers. He could have reported me to the police or given me a massive detention . . . But he kind of took me under his wing instead; he made me concentrate on other things."

Once again, I remember that rumour about the threat of a six month detention - was this the teacher who had gotten him into debate in the first place?

"I'm glad you had that positive influence," I tell him now. "So when did . . ?" I trail off. I can't bring myself to ask the question. It just seems too blunt. He knows what I was asking, though.

"I was 16 when Dad died. He didn't even last two years after he was diagnosed. The cancer was that fucking aggressive; it took over everything." His eyes briefly meet mine and the pain I see contained inside somehow physically hurts me too, twisting my gut and tearing at my heart.

"The thing that kills me the most, though, is that I wasn't even there when he died! I'd reached this resentful phase where I just felt like I couldn't do it anymore. I was so tired of being the boy with the sick parent: I just wanted to feel normal again. So I went away for the night when I probably shouldn't have, and then he passed away, and I couldn't get back in time." He takes a deep breath. "I've never really forgiven myself for that."

And suddenly, it all clicks into place. Why those demons seemed particularly fresh. Why he was a no-show for day two of the debate competition.

His dad had died the day I first met Lewis. Probably just a few hours after he was calming me down prior to my debate. Maybe even while he was drunkenly fooling around with Rachel?

I feel sick. I can't even blame him for not remembering me anymore. This is far bigger than that.

I do the only thing I can think of in that moment. Raise myself onto my knees and wrap my arms around him. Pull him as close as I can. He lets me, allowing his body to mould to mine. "I'm so sorry," I say again. "But you need to forgive yourself, Lewis. You were just a young boy - you were going through a hell of a lot, too, and you were doing the best you could under horrific circumstances."

"Thanks Ruby," he whispers into my neck. "My mum has told me that, too. But I needed to hear it from someone else." He pulls back, gazes into my eyes. "And, somehow, I think it had to be you."

I kiss him then. It might be the most inappropriately timed kiss ever, but I can't stop myself from lunging forward. And he responds almost immediately, his mouth desperately clinging on to mine, and I taste his tears on my lips. With this kiss, I'm trying to share his pain and attempting to repair what appears to have been broken too - his heart. Maybe even fix my own heart, which has been fragile for years, in the process.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Ruby," he murmurs between kisses, hands catching in my hair to angle my face closer, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Inside and out. I always knew it. I could always see it."

His words do things to me that I couldn't have anticipated. I love them and hate them at the same time; welcome the sentiment, but fear it too. My insides churn and my heart pounds, and my brain swims with all the information I've been provided with in such a short space of time.

All I want to do right now, though, is keep kissing him.

And yet we can't. Because it's too hot and heavy and emotional all at once, and we're in a very public place after all.

So I reluctantly pull back. "We should probably stop."

"You're right," Lewis nods, running a hand through his hair as he tries to compose himself. "Should I give Dimitrios a call, ask him to pick us up?"

As we wait for our ride, a sudden realisation strikes me. "Lara . . . You said she was an old friend. I take it that was from when you used to come to Crete as a kid?"

He nods. "Her aunt ran the apartment complex we used to stay in every year. We always kept in touch with the family, so when I knew I was coming out here, I arranged to meet up with them all for a drink. She was just giving me a lift home afterwards."

"So there's really nothing between you?" I query tentatively, and he chuckles.

"She used to babysit me to let my parents have a date night - trust me, there's really nothing there. I always kinda thought of her as an honorary big sister." His eyes flick up to meet mine, a teasing smile lighting up his handsome face as he slips a hand into mine. "I was just being deliberately vague because I wanted to see how you'd react. Especially since watching you flirting with Milos was killing me."

Aw.

"Well, it had the desired effect. I was raging, and I didn't even understand why at that point."

"Maybe you liked me more than you realised?" He lifts my hand to his lips, his eyes sparkling wickedly, and I melt.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" I try to keep my voice light. "So . . . Do you feel better now that you've come here?" I need to check. He nods again.

"I feel like it's the final ghost I had to chase away, if that makes sense. I'd already dealt with coming back to the island, with reuniting with a family I'd been close to when my dad was still alive . . . This was really the last part I needed to process."

I feel awful again as it strikes me that he had to cope with all those other trials on his own, but he obviously reads that in my face and squeezes my hand. "You didn't know, Ruby," he says. "You couldn't have helped then. But you're helping now; you've no idea how much."

In the car, I sit back and close my eyes, slightly wrung out from the day's revelations. With Lewis' hand still curled around mine, I must drift off to sleep as he chats away to Dimitrios, sounding far less tense than he had on the outbound journey.

"So how did you two lovebirds meet?" I initially think the question is part of whatever dream I'm having, as it cuts through it so sharply, but in reality, I'm slowly regaining consciousness and back in the car. Dimitrios is asking Lewis a question we've never really thought to discuss in much detail. Lauren and Drew just instructed us to say we met through them if anyone asked. Which I guess is true in a way.

I remain still. Keep my breathing steady. I'm not getting involved in this. Let Lewis work it out.

He's already on the case, though. "We actually met through friends - at a night out," he tells our driver. "It was pretty much love at first sight . . . Well, for me, anyway. Ruby would probably have a different story to tell." His voice softens, and I can tell he's looking at me.

And I don't think he's lying.

"There's one thing I've never told her, though, Dimitrios," he adds, and I find myself holding my breath now. Is that his confession kink kicking in again? "I think I first fell in love with her a long time before that. Fifteen years ago, actually."

My heart beats harder: I'm sure it's louder than any other noise in the car. So he has remembered me this whole time? And I wasn't imagining our connection? Despite what happened with Rachel?

But it's his next words that surprise me the most.

"She doesn't seem to remember me, though. And . . . I think I've always been quite glad about that."

I know this was a bit of a sad chapter . . . But I hope you still enjoyed!

Also, I know a lot of you suspected that Lewis remembered Ruby from the past . . . But did anyone suspect that Lewis doesn't realise Ruby remembers him?