Pictures of Lily

marry Charlotte. I know in my heart of hearts there’s not a thing I can say to change his mind.
    Friday night. His last night. Mum and Michael are having dinner in the city and Josh invites me to Stirling. I would go if I thought there was any chance of bumping into Ben, but I know that’s unlikely. I tell Josh I still feel ill and go to sit outside on the wraparound veranda. I stare up at Mount Lofty as the sky darkens and tears silently roll down my cheeks.
    I love him. So much. I’d never feel alone with Ben by my side. I’d never feel unhappy or unsafe. He’d protect me. He believes in me. I don’t feel like I’ll believe in myself ever again.
    I wonder where he is, right now. Would he go up to Mount Lofty to say goodbye? What if he’s up there, staring down at my house and asking himself if he’s making the right decision?
    I leap to my feet, full of determination. I have to go. I have to give it one last shot. What have I got to lose? Everything. I have to try. I could walk, but what if he leaves before I get there?
    My mind races as I stumble into the house and search for my car keys on the hallstand. Then I run outside, slamming the front door behind me. I know what I’m doing is highly illegal, but I don’t care. I pray no one sees me.
    It takes everything in me not to put my foot down. I’m nervous, and I don’t know if that’s because I’m driving for the first time on my own or because I’m going to find Ben.
    The car park is practically deserted so I pull into a space without too much trouble and walk towards the side of the building with my heart hammering. I’m hoping to see Ben looking down at Piccadilly and I’m shaken when he’s not there. I continue around the corner and scan the darkness for people sitting on the benches overlooking the city lights, but again, nothing. In a panic I search every face, just to make sure, and one by one as the strangers stare up at me in surprise, my heart slows to a dull thud. He’s not here. I was wrong. I thought I knew him better than this.
    I collapse on a bench and stare down at the city of Adelaide glittering before me. Then I think: I could go to his house! It’s further than Mount Lofty and even more risky, but I can’t let him leave without telling him how I feel. I set off back around the side of the building, full of determination, but then my footsteps slow. This is crazy. I’ll only embarrass myself all over again. I’ll never recover from the shame. What’s he going to do? Cancel his flight? Call off his engagement? No. He’s not going to do any of that.
    I stand and stare down at Piccadilly in despair. A lump forms in my throat and my eyes burn with the onset of tears. I need to get out of here.
    ‘Lily?’ His voice is quiet in the darkness, but it’s unmistakably Ben.
    ‘You’re here,’ I say, as he steps tentatively towards me from the direction of the car park.
    ‘How did you know?’ he asks.
    ‘I didn’t. I thought I’d got it wrong. I was about to leave.’
    He reaches me and I stare up at him. Our eyes lock and connect and this time there’s no looking away. Nothing can tear me away from him.
    ‘I don’t want you to go.’ My voice is barely audible, even to my own ears.
    ‘I know.’ He breathes softly.
    ‘I heard you.’
    He cocks his head in confusion. ‘You heard me?’
    ‘I was there, in the room next to the hospital room. I heard you talking to Dave.’
    Realisation dawns on his face. He looks horrified and it’s enough to make him break eye-contact. I follow him to a bench as he sits down in silence and stares straight ahead.
    ‘You can’t leave,’ I whisper. ‘You can’t leave me.’
    ‘Lily . . .’ He turns to look at me. ‘I have to.’
    ‘You don’t.’
    ‘You know I can’t stay.’
    ‘Yes, you can.’
    ‘This . . .’ he indicates the two of us ‘. . . would never work.’
    ‘You’re wrong.’
    He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. ‘I’m too old for you.’
    ‘You’re not.’
    He’s staring out at the blackness, but my eyes never leave his face.
    ‘You’re too young for me.’
    ‘I’m not.’
    ‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.’ He glances at me sideways and I regard him seriously.
    ‘I love you.’ There. I’ve said it.
    He doesn’t speak for a while, then he reaches up and tugs at his hair. ‘You don’t. You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s just a crush. You’ll get over it.’
    ‘I won’t. It’s not a