The familiar exits disappeared a while back. Now it’s all trees and winding hills, the kind of quiet that sits deep. Pine needles blanket the shoulder of the road, dry and sun-bleached.
The need in my center keeps growing, but I’ve been doing well at ignoring it. I’m going to hold off for as long as possible. I hate that I have no control over my body anymore.
When the SUV turns onto a narrow gravel drive, something in my chest pulls tight.
The slope of the hill. The fence leaning at the corners. Cabins tucked low between trees. He’s brought me back to the spot where the summer camp used to be. They closed it a few years back and now rent out the cabins and the mess hall for parties.
I lean forward, the smile already forming. “I get the block heel now.”
Ford keeps one hand on the wheel, steering with ease. He glances over, grinning. “We figured stilettos wouldn’t survive the terrain here.”
I tilt my head to the side. “We, huh? Who picked out the dress and lingerie, and how did you know my size?”
He puts the SUV in park and meets my gaze. “Jace picked it out. He seems to have an eye for measurements and women’s fashion. He mumbled something about his mom being a seamstress turned fashion designer and having to help her measure the men for suits.”
I shake my head, soft with disbelief as I stare out at the camp. Nostalgia stirs in my chest. Swallowing hard, I turn to look at him. “It feels so strange being back here after all this time. Thank you.”
He leans over and kisses my temple. “You haven’t seen everything yet.”
He gets out of the car and comes around to open the door and offer me his hand.
It’s somewhere between five and six when we reach the edge of the trees. I forgot how long the path winds out this way.
The sun hasn’t set, but it’s getting there. Light bleeds lavender through a patch of cloud, softening the sky and everything under it. The trail is uneven, grass pushing through the earth in places, pine needles crushed flat by boots. Ford walks a little ahead. He’s close enough that our arms brush every few steps. He doesn’t talk. I don’t either.
When the trees fall away, I stop without meaning to.
The lake stretches wide in front of us. Low light catches on the surface, and the far bank blurs into shadow. Off the shore, a white canvas tent stands wide enough to be a small room, square-framed with a tarp draped over the top. Its corners are weighed down with flat stones. The flaps at the entrance sway in the breeze, but I can’t see inside.
Lanterns hang from the lower branches of the oak, flickering against the rise of dusk. Their warm gold light spills across the clearing.
Three figures stand near the entrance.
Jace rolls his shoulder and adjusts the collar of his shirt. For once, his unruly curls are tamed. He must’ve gotten a haircut since this morning.
Logan’s hands stay tucked in his pockets, weight settled like he’s been standing there a while; his strawberry blond hair also styled back with gel, like Ford’s.
Wes stares out at the lake, his dreads pulled back clean.
They’re dressed like Ford. Light blue button-ups, black slacks, dark brown dress shoes that shine with fresh polish.
Ford squeezes my hand and leads me over to them. They all smile as they notice us and straighten up, stepping forward to meet us by the tent.
I glance over my shoulder at the old oak. It’s grown taller, its roots still tangled as they reach out toward the water. It’s hard to make out at this distance, but I can still see our symbol near the base, now darkened with age.
I follow him toward the tent.
The ground softens beneath us. My thick heels sink in a little where the grass thickens. The dress sways with each step. I breathe in pine and the lake water. For a moment, every part of my body feels at peace. I didn’t realize how much I needed this place.
Stopping just in front of the others, Ford lets go of my hand and turns toward me. He stands in the middle of them before he pulls a black velvet ring box out of his pocket and kneels on one knee. “Frankie, it felt only fitting that we bring you here.”
Jace kneels to his right. “To the place where our bond started.”
Logan follows, kneeling to his left. “This oak tree has seen our beginning and separation.”
Wes lowers beside them, closer to the lake. “Now, it’ll witness our bonding.”
“Will you bond with us?”They speak together, voices even.
