Pines gave way to rolling hills, and the air turned brighter, clearer. Then, like a curtain lifting, the lake came into view.

Even after all these years, the sight of it made something shift in my chest. That unreal turquoise stretch of water. Empty picnic areas, shuttered summer stands. A stillness that felt like memory itself.

Jack pulled the truck into a half-forgotten turnout on the west side, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Our spot. Hidden between the pine belt and a rocky slope. We parked beside the charred ring of what used to be a firepit.

“This is it.” Jack murmured. “Remember what you said to me on our last camp here?”

I nodded slowly. We were seventeen, and I barely understood myself. I had no one to talk to. Jack was the first person I came out to, and for a long time, the only one. 

“I told you I liked guys.” My heart started to pound for the sole thought of that night. “God I was terrified.”

“You didn’t need to be,” Jack said, still staring out at the water. “I might have caught it even before you did. The way you looked at me that summer… I just knew.”

His words stopped me cold. We’d never talked about it. Not once.

“Was it that obvious?” I mumbled, casting my eyes down, burning with old shame. 

“You weren't just telling me you liked guys, were you?” He asked softly. “What you really wanted to say was you liked me.”

“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “I didn't think you were ready to hear it. I didn't think you wanted to hear it.”

“Now I do. And now I'm ready.”

His fingers found my wrist, slowly, tentatively. I let him take my hand. And just like that, we were seventeen again. My chest filled with warmth, my heart was racing. 

“I like you, Jack. I have liked you since that summer. Maybe even earlier. I should've told you, before we fucked it up.”

“Let's be honest. You didn't tell me, cause I've always been a coward.” He turned to look at me, finally meeting my eyes. “But I liked you too. And the truth is… I still do.”

We sat there still, silent. It was fragile. I didn't dare to speak, as if a sound, a rustle could tear us apart again. For a moment, there were only our breaths, and the breeze caressing pine tops outside of the window. 

“Can we forget about the world just for today?" he asked softly. “Like it’s the last day of camp or something.” He glanced at me, hesitant. “I’m not trying to run again. I just want to live this moment. While it lasts.”

“Okay.” I whispered back. “What do you want to do then?”

“Let's take a swim. Like the old days.”

“Like the old days, you say?” I smirked, recalling those nights we were doing races across the lake, messing around and jumping in the water. “Last one in gathers wood for the fire!” I shouted out of nowhere and ran out of the car towards the bank, getting rid of my clothes along the way. 

Jack followed right behind me, laughing. The valley filled with sound — our sound. Laughter bouncing between the hills, echoing over the water like it had memory. As if the lake remembered. As if it was welcoming us home.

“I'm so glad we came here.” Jack sighed later, as we lay sprawled on a blanket, warm from the sun and the swim.

I smiled, holding a stick over the fire, scorching bread on the tip. It was just leftovers from what I’d packed for the party.

“We had a good childhood.” I said,  watching the crust blacken slightly” I miss those days.” 

“At last you're free. No one questions what you do. And me? Whatever I do is never enough. The guys always pushing for more deals, more money. My parents still comparing me to my siblings. And Mary… yearning for a peaceful, perfect life I won't ever provide.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side.” I bit the bread and gave Jack a telling glance.

“You're probably right.” He exhaled loudly. “I really don't know what happens next.”

“You don't have to. Life has a way of unfolding after that.”

He looked off toward the water.

“I can't believe I allowed it to get this far. She wasted so many years on me...”

“Better to end it now,” I said slowly, “before you both get stuck in a lavender marriage neither of you asked for.”

I folded the toast, placed a square of chocolate inside and passed it to Jack. Silence settled between us as we ate. I observed his cheeks puff out with delight.

“You've got more?” He asked, tiny chocolate smudge marking his chin. 

I smiled  and reached out to wipe it away. 

“You'd have to wait a bit. The rest is in the car.”

He caught my wrist, his grip warm and firm. Then, slowly, he brought my finger to his mouth and licked the melted chocolate from its tip.

“I've waited long enough.”

His eyes locked with mine, and there it was - that look. That hunger. Not just for touch, or heat. But for connection, for us. My stomach twisted, my pulse quickened. I was falling for him all over again. 

“Did you think of me sometimes?” He asked with his voice low. 

“I did.” I admitted. “But it hurt me more, so I let it go. I really thought I moved on… until you showed up.” I paused. “And it was all fresh again. As if we never parted.” 

“I'm sorry.” He said with his voice crackling. “I should’ve found you earlier. On my own. Without all this fuss.”

“It is what it is.” I looked at the sky, streaked red and orange as if it was getting ready for the stars to appear. “We should really get going if you want to be back at a reasonable hour.”

“Let's stay the night.” He grabbed me by the hand once more. “Please, don't steal this moment. I don't know when we'll have another.”

His fingers slid beneath my shirt, like a timid invitation. Then his lips touched my neck. A kiss steeped in longing, built across the years. His body warm and aching leaned into mine, begging for an answer. And I couldn't say “no” this time. Because this time it was different.

There was no rush, no guilt, no drunken haze. Just two people wanting each other - fully, honestly - more than anything else in the world. 

The evening air filled with the hush of our breath, the soft sighs we couldn’t hold back. The lake breeze curled around us, stirring the reeds, cooling our skin as we moved together — slow, careful, almost reverent.

The pines were whispering overhead, the crickets in the grass weaving their midnight concerto. We lay there, wrapped in silence, absorbing the sounds, the scents, the hardness of the ground beneath us. Yearning for another kiss. Another touch. Another breathless second. Never ready for the night to fade.

The fire had long since gone out, and the stars had shifted overhead. We stayed close, tangled in one another. 

Neither of us said much. His fingers traced lazy circles across my ribs, my hand rested against the curve of his spine. We were sharing soft caress, an attempt to memorize each other.

My eyelids were getting heavy, but there was something holding me back from falling asleep. An irrational fear… Looking at the sky covered in greys, I realized that this night couldn’t stretch any further. And when the sun comes up, who knows beside whom I'm going to wake up.

Suddenly, the memory of an empty bed returned, and a cold thrill ran down my spine. Would he even be here in the morning? Or would I be left holding nothing but his scent, and even that fading by nightfall? Would I be wounded again? Left behind like some inconvenient truth? 

I turned my head toward Jack and whispered barely audibly "If you're gonna leave, do it now." 

His body shifted next to mine, and he uttered a silent, sleepy "What are you talking about?"

"I'm scared to close my eyes." I clenched my fists on the blanket. "Because when they open, you may not be there." I turned my face towards him and placed my hand on his cheek. "This time I won't make it. If there's even the slightest thought of leaving in your head - leave me now. Before I close my eyes."

“I'm not leaving. I just need some time to figure things out…”

I put a finger on his lips.

“Then stay.”