Something about the way he says it settles somewhere deep in my chest. I tuck my chin into the blanket.
“Life was simpler then.” I sigh.
He huffs softly. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“No responsibilities.”
“No school trips where you’re responsible for thirty children with knives.”
“Supervised knives,” I correct.
“Obviously.”
The fire crackles softly between us. Then, after a moment, Rory says something quieter. “I miss parts of it.”
I glance at him. “The woods?”
“Just… that version of things. Of life.” His voice is casual but there’s something underneath it that isn’t. “Before everything got complicated.” The word hangs there.Complicated.He rubs a hand over the back of his neck like he’s just realised he said it out loud. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know what you meant,” I say gently.
The embers shift again, glowing brighter for a moment.
“When we were kids,” he continues slowly, “you were just there. I didn’t have to think about anything. We’d just end up in the same place after school.”
I can picture it clearly now. Mud on our shoes. The smell of leaves and damp wood. The ridiculous pride we took in building something barely held together by rope and optimism.
“No expectations,” I say. “No pressure. No history.”
The last word slips out before I can stop it. Rory glances at me briefly. But he doesn’t disagree.
“I liked that,” he says eventually.
“So did I.”
I pull my feet up onto the bench and tuck them underneath me, cocooning myself in the blanket. The cold brushes my face but the fire is still warm enough to make it bearable.
“Do you ever wish you could go back?” I ask quietly.
He thinks about it for a moment. Then he shakes his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wouldn’t have Isla.”
The answer is immediate. Certain.
“That’s a good reason,” I say softly.
“And you wouldn’t have Theo.”
“Also a very good reason.”
The quiet stretches between us again. But it isn’t uncomfortable. If anything it feels easier than most of the conversations we’ve had lately. After a moment Rory leans back slightly, resting his arms along the back of the bench.
“You’re not doing the sarcasm thing tonight,” he says.
“What sarcasm thing?”
