“Oh my gosh.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “The bridge.”
“You remember it?”
I nod. “Mind if we walk across?”
He tips his chin in agreement, but his eyes remain serious. “Sure.”
He stays alongside me as we walk over the bridge, and the roar of the river fills my ears. When we reach the middle, I stop to watch the current rushing past, and Chase stands beside me.
So much water running under the bridge. Every second of every day it keeps flowing, just like it did when I was young. I let the cool, clean air fill my lungs. I can smell the wet stone and moss.
I feel alive here, and I don’t remember feeling this calm in a long time. Part of it is taking some time off, I’m sure. Skipping the caffeine and spending time out with all this nature around me can’t hurt either.
But it’s Chase too. His presence is calming.
I feel it.
A stitch on my sweatshirt catches on a padlock someone’s attached to the bridge.
“Oh, I love these.” I stop to turn it over in my hand. It’s a small silver lock with rainbow-colored bits of yarn wound around the shackle. “I remember when my mom first told me what these were.”
“What are they?”
I turn to him, shocked. “You don’t know?”
He shrugs. “Vandalism?”
“Stop.” I laugh, running my hand over a few more of them as we stroll further. “They’re called love locks. Couples leave them here as a symbol of their commitment to each other, and they toss the key into the water.”
“Hmm.” He tips his jaw slightly, but his expression is unchanged.
“What? You don’t think that’s sweet?” I tip my eye patch up for a moment to give him a flirty look.
He squints back at me, then he chuckles. “All right. Yeah, it’s sweet.”
“Ahh. So thereisa heart in there somewhere.” I poke lightly at the center of his chest as we walk, and he rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t step back.
I give him a smile, and the corners of his mouth turn up.
I spot a horse on one of the farms in the distance. “Oh my gosh. I forgot about the horses.”
“What horses?”
I point. “On that hill, past the trees.”
He nods.
“I remember our bus would drive past there on the way to school, and I used to wonder what it might be like to ride one.”
“Mmm. You like to ride?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”
He balks. “You’ve never ridden a horse?”
“No.” I turn to him, surprised. “Why, have you?”
He shrugs. “No. But I never wanted to.”
