“I love you.” He blurts. The words will never come out right. He didn’t mean to yell them at her. Those three words will just never leave his mouth when he tries to tell her. They get stuck in his throat forming a lump that he can’t swallow but can’t get out his mouth either so it sits there and taunts him.

“No.” She says turning around slowly.

“No? What do you mean no?” I ask quickly. “I do love you.”

“You shouldn’t, stop.” She rushed up to me and holds my hands.

“What’s happened love? What’s going on?” I ask frowning. I can see it in her eyes, those eyes that glimmer when she smiles and crease in the corners when she laughs, something is wrong.

“You can’t love me.” She replies squeezing my hands and looking into me eyes.

“I do.” I say. “Why are you saying this? We have been dating for months now. I love everything about you. The way you have to pet every dog in the park. The way you take care of plants like they’re our children. Don’t tell me I don’t love you.” I take a breath. It’s eerily silent in the park. “Do you, do you not love me?”

“No it’s not that.” She replies. “I do love you. I love everything about you. I see us getting married, having a family, have many dogs and cats,” she laughs then her face turns serious, “you can’t love me. You deserve better.”

“I don’t want better, I want you. I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like you’re not good enough for me, you are. You’re perfect to me.” My words come out desperate in fear of losing her. I just don’t understand, I love her, she loves me. Isn’t that how love works?

“We could have been perfect for each other.” She sighs.

“Could? Why can’t we be perfect for each other?”

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” She admits pulling back from me. The air has gone cold, it makes me shiver.

“Whatever it is I’m sure we can work through it. I mean I said I was never going to get into another relationship but you changed my mind and you made me believe that I deserve to be loved.”

“You do deserve to be loved.” She quickly says, “by someone better than me.”

“That’s not what I want. I want you.” I step closer to her and gently put my hands on her shoulders. “Whatever this is we can work it out.”

“I don’t think so.” She takes a step back again. “Look, I didn’t realise this when I first met you or I never would have got into a relationship with you.” She searches for the words and I give her the time she needs, not pressing her for answers I want. “You know how your Dad died in a hit and run?”

“Yes.” I answer. “What, you were involved?” It’s my turn to step back.

“I was the one who hit him. It was an accident. I was never meant to be there in the first place. I didn’t know what to do so I carried on driving. It was the biggest mistake of my life and I regret it every day. You looked so familiar when we met and it made me curious to why and then I figured it out the other week. I’m not asking you to love me. I’m not asking you to forgive me. You just deserve to know.” Is this how love is supposed to work?