“Oh my gosh,” Tessa says, her hand flying to her mouth. “Did Jack just run behind us?”
I turn back to the blanket and continue setting out the food, trying not to laugh. “Yeah,” I say. “I think he did.”
“Oh my gosh, poor guy.” She’s still watching him with genuine concern on her face.
“Don’t worry about him,” I say, unwrapping the sandwiches. “I’m sure he loved it. He’s a fit dude. He loves exercise.”
Her head tilts to the side, skeptical. “I don’t know. He looks tired.”
I glance back. Jack is indeed bent over slightly, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Well, it is midday in July,” I point out. “And he just ran pretty fast, trying to keep up with our bikes. He’s probably hot.”
She shakes her head slowly, her expression soft with something like guilt. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him following me everywhere.”
“Well, hopefully it won’t be a forever thing,” I say, setting out the fruit and cheese.
“Yeah.” She nods, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “Hopefully.”
I finish arranging the food and glance up at her. “Have you ever had a picnic before?”
She shakes her head, tucking her legs beneath her. “No. I haven’t, actually.”
“Good.” I hand her a plate, our fingers brushing briefly. “That’s another first for the day.”
She loads her plate with a turkey sandwich, strawberries, grapes, and a few slices of cheese, then lifts her eyes to meet mine. “You’ve given me a lot of beautiful firsts,” she says softly, her voice catching just slightly. A quiet, self-conscious laugh follows. “I still don’t know why or how I got so lucky to have someone like you looking out for me.”
The way she says it—like she doesn’t deserve it—turns my stomach.
“You deserve to have someone looking out for you,” I say firmly. “You’ve always deserved that, Tessa.”
She looks down at her plate, blinking rapidly, and I know if I push it further, she might cry. So I change the subject, taking a bite of my sandwich.
But inevitably—because it’s always there, lurking beneath every good moment—the topic of her case comes up anyway.
“Penny’s still working on it,” I tell her between bites. “But she called this morning. She thinks she has something that will guarantee he stays away.”
“Really?” Tessa asks, hope threading through her voice, making it higher, lighter. “What is it?”
“I don’t know all the details yet. But she seemed confident.” I meet her eyes.
“That would be…” Tessa shakes her head like she can’t quite let herself believe it. “That would be incredible.”
“It will be,” I say. “You’re going to get through this. And then you’re going to live your life exactly how you want to.”
She gives me a small, hopeful smile and takes a bite of a strawberry.
We eat beneath the oak tree, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. I could talk to Tessa for days and never get bored.
When we’re finished, I pack everything back into the wicker basket, and we stretch out on the blanket, full and content.
I extend my arm without thinking, and Tessa settles her head into the crook of it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hair smells like vanilla shampoo, and her body is warm against my side.
We stare up at the sky through the wide branches above us, watching white clouds drift lazily overhead. The summer air is warm and steady, carrying the distant sounds of children playing and a dog barking somewhere across the park.
At this moment, I get it.
I understand why my friends all settled down so quickly after finding their person.
This feeling—the ease, the closeness, the quiet certainty that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be—is something I’ll never get enough of.
