After breakfast the guys jumped onto my truck, and we ventured into the park. I kept looking at Jack in the rear window. Despite having a good breakfast and downing a killer of a coffee, he looked shitty. 

“Hey, you sure you wanna go?” I asked him after we parked near Jenny lake. “We could eat something, shoot a few photos and go back. You look exhausted.”

“It's just a little hike. I'm fine,” he replied, clearly irritated that I was questioning his strenght. 

“Come on, lovebirds!” I heard Jared yelling at us. “You can cuddle when we're done with the trail.”

“Shut up, jackass!” Jack snapped back, suddenly energized. “You want a cuddle? I’ll give you a fucking cuddle.”

Jack jumped down from the truck bed and jogged toward Jared. The two started roughhousing like little kids, shoving and barking out stupid insults.

Jack laughed. Probably clueless. But I wasn’t. I saw the weight behind Jared’s words. He wasn’t just being funny. He was testing the ground. He was testing me.

The day passed without revelations, yet the air was tight. Maybe it was Jared’s watchful silence. Maybe it was Jack’s unfinished confession, hovering above me like a knife on a thread.

By the time we reached Inspiration Point, Jack’s steps had turned from weak to sluggish. His breathing was shallow, sweat gathering at his brow despite the cool breeze.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” he said, but there was no conviction behind it.

When we started descending, his knees buckled on a loose patch of rock. I grabbed his elbow quickly.

“Careful.”

He gave me a sheepish look. “Thanks.”

I stayed close on the way down. Let him lean on me where the terrain got tricky. Felt the warmth of his body pressed against mine now and then. These short moments of touch were filling my chest with warmth. I still had his trust after all this time. 

Kevin and Patrick were marching ahead of us, talking loudly, snapping selfies. Jared was lagged behind, trailing us in silence. Unusually quiet. Watchful. I could almost feel his breath on my neck. He was up to something. And I was just waiting for the moment he'd strike - confident it was only a matter of time. 

“So, Barry,” Jared finally called me out when we were lounging at the lodge later. “How do you feel as a mountain monk? Don't you miss Salt Lake City?”

He poured me a glass of whiskey, and I accepted it with mild hesitation. 

“On the contrary.” I took a sip, weighing my words. “This place is freedom.”

“Heard you sold your family house,” he said, cocking his head. “You must’ve bought yourself a nice little ranch in Jackson, huh?”

Suddenly I felt surrounded. All eyes on me, about to judge. Damn white collars, city guys. I could rave about my way of living, but they would never understand. 

“Not really.” I said, setting my glass down. “My boss is out of state so I run his B&B, guide hikes when the season’s right. I own the car only. And honestly, it's enough.” 

Jared raised his eyebrows. Kevin let out a surprised gasp.

“That's one hell of a statement.” Kevin grabbed his drink. “To our anti-capitalist friend.”

“To freedom.” Partick added with a grin.  

“So you bring the girls to that b&b? Are they cool with that?” 

Jared kept circling the subject like a hound on a scent. He surely mentioned “girls” on purpose, now that he suspected something was off. 

Jack went still for the mention, barely noticeable if you weren’t watching. 

“Oh come on Jared!” Kevin jumped in,  winking at me. “They screw under the stars. Might get myself a pickup too. Bet the ladies love it, huh?”

“Don't know, never tried,” I replied with a shrug and dished another sip of whiskey.

“I don't know man…” Jared went on with yapping. “Owning nothing, living in the wild. Don't you ever feel unsafe?”

“Jared…” I crossed my arms, a little pissed. “When you have nothing, there's nothing to lose. Is your well-organized corporate life any safer? One bad bet, market crash, and everything goes to hell.”

“At least I have goals, ambition,” he muttered.

He was about to go on, but Jack finally spoke up, cutting through the rising tension.

“Let him be. It's not a pissing contest.” He paused. “Don't we all want to screw everything and run away sometimes?  Fuck the schedules, deadlines, ASAPs…”

“Yeah…” Patrick sighed, gazing in the distance. “Just me and the fish. The water in the lake, and the wind in my hair. No paperwork, no invoices, no children screaming.”

“Only me and the girls, stargazing at my pickup bed.” Kevin chimed in with a grin. “Relax, guys. To the groom. May he still find a little wilderness once Mary’s got that ring on him.” 

He raised his glass, and the rest of us followed, letting the topic dissolve into laughter and toasts. The whiskey kept flowing. Soon came drinking games and nostalgic stories from our college days. Each memory louder than the last. 

I played along just enough. Smiled where expected. Laughed on cue. But despite the turmoil, I could feel Jack's eyes on me. Not once. As if he was trying to speak to me soundlessly. I brushed it off.

For a moment I zoned out, with my back against the wall, listening to the sound of fire crackling in the lodge hearth. 

This was their world. Ties and timelines, table talk and polite ambition. And somewhere in it sat Jack - one foot in their circle, one in mine. It didn't sit right. As if we were both trapped. Well, I surely felt trapped.

I slipped away quietly, just before midnight. No one seemed to notice, except maybe Jack. His eyes caught mine for a second - hesitant, questioning - but he didn’t stop me.