The colourful van pulled away into the traffic. It’s engine straining as it tried to accelerate.

Ayamin stood on the footpath, she was just over a meter away from me, but it felt like all the distance in the world. Her eyes gazed straight into mine and I had to look away. You have messed up Danny-boy, I thought to myself, you’ve darn messed up.

‘Sh-should we find somewhere to sit and talk about this?’ I asked, feeling like I was talking to a stranger.

Ayamin didn’t say a thing. Her eyes remained on my face, but she did nod at least.

Sheltered from the road by a stand of trees stood a white concrete wall. I climbed on top of it and looked out over Milan. An orange sun was setting on the horizon and bathed the city in its glow.

Ayamin fumbled her way to the top of the wall.

She sat there, staring at me. Her cheek had small lines of orange on it from where her tears reflected the sunset. I reached out to wipe at it, but Ayamin jerked backwards without a word.

I pulled my hand back and stared out at the sun again.

‘The reason I lied to you about the refugee camp is I was scared you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me. I wanted you to see me as more than a criminal.’

I waited for her to say something… her eyes were intense, almost magnetised to mine and her mouth hung open slightly, but she didn’t speak so I continued.

‘After that, I just couldn’t find the right time – or the bravery to tell you… and it’s more than that; I started to feel like a different person – a good person. Because of you, I wanted to be someone better – and that’s who I became. Meeting you was like a fresh start Ayamin. I didn’t want that tarnished with the bad things I’d done before.’

I paused and breathed in. My heart was beating way to fast. I felt almost angry – but not quite. Ayamin just sat there. Watching.

‘Umm,’ I said, ‘That’s it… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Ayamin and I love you and I hope you can see that the only reason I didn’t tell you before is because I was scared to lose you.’

She sat. waiting for me to speak again. I let the silence hang. I wanted to hear from her – I desperately wanted to hear her say something.

Ayamin let out a sigh and jumped down from the wall, swung the bag onto her back, and walked off. Her boots tapped on the concrete path and every step seemed to echo.

I got to my feet. I was ready to chase her, to beg her like I had when we left the refugee camp, but then I stopped.

She’s just found out that the guy she’s been travelling with is a wanted criminal. She needs space.

I sat back down on the wall. It felt colder now that the sun had set.

It got colder and colder as I waited for Ayamin to come back. Below me I watched clubs begin to open up and foreigners walk out of supermarkets carrying bags bulging with alcohol.

I shivered, stood up and looked around. No Ayamin. I kicked at the wall, imagining it was my face, then toppled off and grazed my forehead on the ground.

‘Woah buddy, you alright?’

I moaned as a group of university students gathered around me.

‘He’s cracked his head,’ one of the girls said, she had an English accent.

‘Nah,’ I said, sitting up, ‘I’ve just cracked my heart.’

The group gave a sympathy ‘Ahhh,’ and two of the guys helped me to my feet. They placed a half empty bottle of wine in my hands then wandered off.

I went back to the wall and leaned against it. I took a swig of the wine. It tasted terrible.

A girl called out, I turned, but it was just some backpacker calling out to their friends. I took another drink. It still tasted like ass.

I let my feet fall from under me and sat on my butt clutching the wine bottle. Surely she’ll be here soon? I took a good long swallow and decided I’d never drink cheap wine again.

There was a street party just down the road from where I was sitting. People were laughing as they stumbled out of it with their arms around each other. That’s all I wanted, just to go to the street party with Ayamin, we’d dance and we’d sing and we’d forget everything bad had happened. I took another swallow and decided to go check it out.

As I wobbled to my feet, I looked around for Ayamin. Nothing. She was gone. I drank. Tossed the empty bottle in the bin. I needed more alcohol.

The street party was a mass of colourful cloth, flags, and confetti. There were hundreds of people with painted faces singing along to Italian tunes.

I slipped in, wandering through the throngs of people and drinking discarded liqueurs and wines sitting on tables.

The music was bright party music. People bounced and twirled and smiled. Drinks spilled into my mouth and I felt a numb smile begin.

The beat changed but I was still swaying. I put my hand to my head just before I hit the ground. I felt my nose explode… little drips of blood floated past like flowers in the wind. I felt hands on my face. Soft hands and caring eyes.

‘Ayamin?’ I asked, ‘Where did you go?’