Outside, the night was crisp. I headed toward the car, the crunch of grass beneath my boots barely audible - until a door slammed shut behind me. Footsteps followed, soft but certain. My heart stuttered. I didn't have to look back to know whose footsteps it was. 

“Leaving early?” Jack's voice called out. 

“The world you guys live in ain't no longer mine, and you know it.” I didn't turn around. “Figured I'd rather call it quits.”

I sat on the edge of the pickup bed, wrapping myself in a blanket. It was getting colder. The summer was at its end and one could feel it with every passing day. 

I looked up and saw Jack approaching. His cheeks were flushed with whiskey. Eyes blurry. Dark blonde hair shining in the warm light sipping through the windows of the lodge behind him. He looked like a dream I was trying to forget. 

“Why did you follow?” I asked finally, when he was close enough not to raise my voice. 

“Because…” he hesitated. 

“Because what?” I cut in, sharper than I meant to.

He'd fucked it up years ago, and he was about to fuck it up again. That silence between us made my skin crawl. I was done with the dodging, the half-truths, the bullshit. I wasn’t some secret to be kept behind closed doors.

“Because I have something to say. And if I don't say it now, I might never get another shot.” He replied with visible embarrassment. Facing truth was never a strong side of his. 

I was waiting with my arms crossed on my chest. Ready to fire back, eager to judge. 

“Remember what you said in the morning? About mistakes? It was never you.” Jack shook his head. “Running away was a mistake. And I realized that pretty quickly.”

“Why didn't you come back then? Why the ghosting?” I shook my head in disbelief, sure I'll get a list of excuses.

“I was scared.” He dropped his eyes to the ground. “I wanted to come back, I really did. But in my head it was too late. And then… I got caught up in that thing with Mary. Until it actually was too late.”

At least he was finally honest. Not that I needed his honesty now. Not that it could change a thing. 

At first I didn't know he was into guys. There were signs, but nothing too obvious. Yet after the night we shared… I was more than sure. 

Maybe it wouldn't hurt that much if he'd just used me. But he walked away in denial - walked away from what we could have been. A chance was wasted. He chose the path that seemed easier. 

“Well done. You said it. If you're looking for forgiveness…” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

“I don't.”  

Silence. Dense and all-consuming. Too thick to break with ease. 

“So…” I whispered after we cooled off. “Now what?”

“Now?” Jack raised his gaze and looked me in the eye. “Now I'd really like to kiss you.” 

I froze. He was doing it again - messing up with my head just to disappear the morning after. And still I had no strength to stop him. 

“We shouldn't,” I muttered quietly, without conviction.

“I know,” Jack replied under his breath, leaning in.

His lips met mine tentatively at first, as if he was waiting for me to push him back. I didn't. I let the kiss deepen. Soft at the start, turning chaotic. Desperate. Hungry. Years of silence and yearning melted on our tongues. 

His hand cupped around my jaw, thumb brushing over my cheekbone, like he was discovering me all over again. My fingers slid under his collar, clinging to his neck, as if my whole life depended on the heat of his body. 

We were kissing as if all those years were merely a bad dream. As if we were back in college - young, reckless and madly in love. Before we fucked it up. 

“God, you smell the same.” Jack gasped, pulling away. “I used to dream of that scent.”

He pressed against me again. His knee slid between my thighs. I could feel the weight of him, the ache in him. And the taste of whiskey on his lips.

Then - a sudden realisation. We were doing it again. Drunk. Sloppy. Repeating history. 

“No.” I said quietly, then louder. “No. Stop it.”

I pushed him back. He looked at me surprised. 

“You're drunk again. Tomorrow you'll act as if nothing ever happened.” 

“It's not the same as then. You know it.” He replied, resentful.

“No, it's not.” I agreed. “Last time you ended up dating her. Now you two are going to marry. Quite a commitment.”

“That's not fair…” He looked at me with those giant hazel eyes, guilty as a puppy.

“Is it? You want me to be your secret? Your side chick? Not into that shit.” I paused to get myself together before continuing more levelly - “Come back sober, when it actually means something. Or just let it die.” 

Jack stood there silent, stunned. His expression shifted. What was it in his eyes now? Regret? Shame maybe? He turned around without a word and disappeared into the dark. 

I took a deep breath to calm down, understanding how close I was to ruin myself again. I must be insane, I thought, to still want him like I do. 

After all the years apart we were basically strangers. And yet I was ready to let him break my heart once more. And for what? For a few moments of honesty? For a night of pleasure? Pathetic.

My gaze hung on the trees nearby the lodge. A sudden rustle in the distance. I could swear there was some movement there. I squinted at the shadows, trying to recognise the shape. A human silhouette without a doubt. It blinked before my eyes for a second and quickly hid behind the house. 

Jared. 

It must have been him. He was sniffing around all day, and now he finally found a reason to sting. I exhaled heavily. 

“We are so fucked,” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes, hiding my head in hands. “So, so fucked…”