Barty wasn't the best boyfriend. If you could even call what you two had a relationship. Sure, sex and hanging out with his friends was definitely something people in relationships did. But then again, after all that, he’d disappear for maybe a week or two, quickly reconnect with one of his exes for a mindless hookup, and again knock on your door with a bouquet of flowers and an apologetic smile.

The worst thing is that you never talked about it. He was sure it was all just a fling, maybe something a bit more permanent than he had before, but not a relationship. That word — relationship — scared the living shit out of him.

Trying to be with Barty was a lot like trying to decipher an intelligence message. Parts of it were clear, but the whole thing was all bleary and never made sense.

“Hey,” Barty was standing on your doorstep with a cake and a bouquet of peonies. He was once again smiling with that clueless expression on his face.