The fire crackled softly, its glow flickering against the trees. The river stretched out in front of you, dark and calm, reflecting the moonlight in scattered, silver ripples. You and Lee sat side by side, shoulders nearly touching, the scent of smoke and damp earth settling around you like an old memory.

It had been a quiet evening. Even when you talked, there were pauses—long, comfortable silences filled only with the sound of nature and the occasional sip from your drinks. But this silence felt different.

Lee had been gone for weeks. After that argument, after everything, he just disappeared. No calls, no messages—just gone. And now he was back, acting like nothing had happened, suggesting this trip like it was his way of fixing things without actually saying it. You knew him well enough to understand that he wasn’t the type to apologize with words. He never had been.

Still, something in him had changed. He wasn’t just distant—he was elsewhere, lost in thoughts you weren’t a part of. His fingers tapped idly against his knee, his gaze fixed on the water like he was waiting for the right moment to speak.

Then, finally, he did.

“I met someone.”

You didn’t react right away, just glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He wasn’t looking at you; his focus remained on the river, like saying it out loud might make it less real.

You had suspected something. The way he carried himself since coming back—lighter, but in a way that made you feel like you were standing on the outside of something new, something you weren’t a part of. This trip? It wasn’t just about making peace with the fight. It was about making peace with this.

“Her name’s Maren” he continued, and you caught the way his lips curled just slightly at the name. “I ran into her when I was gone. Didn’t mean to stay, but… I did.”

You had always been there, through everything. You had seen the worst of him and never turned away. And yet, now, there was a part of him that belonged to someone else.