Never in my life had I understood before this moment how bone-achingly cold the ground can be. You don’t think of the earth as having much of a temperature when you’re towering high above it on your two legs and well-insulated shoes. But I was coiled up like a fox now in a hole, and the dirt all around me was that strange mix of cold-wet and so heavy it gave me nightmares that I was in a grave.

I had walked and walked and walked until my blisters popped and new ones began to grow underneath them all over again. No pink markers, no yellow ones. No path at all. It was embarrassing how quickly I had gotten so lost. I had gotten myself so disoriented I wasn’t even able to find the stream again so I could follow that. The trees never let up and no matter how much I walked, I never seemed to be able to escape. And then night came. All at once like the lights had been switched off.

Fast traumas are easy – they happen and then they’re over. But slow traumas are much worse, in a way. I couldn’t say exactly when during the night I had started to lose hope. It didn’t happen all at once. I let it in slowly, bit by bit, in the same way the damp was seeping into my bones and I couldn’t get it out.

It must have been past midnight and I couldn’t sleep beyond forcing my eyes closed and trying not to hear the rustles of foliage all around me. I couldn’t be sure, but I was paranoid that the wolves were still tracking me somehow, either to see what else I had to eat or to wait for me to die they could eat me. I had tried my best to wrap a cocoon all around myself and shelter inside the rough cradle of some exposed roots of a tree. I dug away at the earth a little to hide myself but I was hopeless. I had no idea what I was doing out here. I was first cold, and then after that, I lost the ability to even feel the coldness in my own hands. My fingers looked and felt like they belonged to someone else. The sensation of looking at my own hands upset me so much I just stopped looking.

There’s something calm and freeing about trying to survive. The cold felt like it was burning away every unnecessary thing in my brain until only a few bare bone ides remained: I needed to stay warm. I needed to keep going until it was morning, and to eat soon. If I survived, I wanted to be a good, kind person and appreciate what I had. That’s all. My life flashed before my eyes but in the icy night air, it took its time. I saw myself projected on a screen and I watched on. I was overweight. I was a big, stupid ‘fraidy cat. I was impulsive and greedy and vain and I didn’t have the guts to admit to the only thing I’d ever really wanted in my life: to be loved. I quietly mouthed out a half-asleep prayer as I lay there in the cold, and begged someone, anyone, to get me out of this alive.

“I’ll do anything…” I whispered to nobody. My breath wasn’t even making white clouds anymore. I tried to force my brain onto useful things. I had to plan. To think smart. But even my thinking seemed to slow and freeze until I found myself deliriously turning the same strange ideas over and over in my head. Should I have kept walking?

But the wolves.

I needed to conserve my heat, didn’t I? The ground was cold. But didn’t I need my sleep? Perhaps I should be making a noise to catch the attention of anyone who’s come looking for me.

But the wolves.

The only thought I could hold for any length of time was the image of those hard amber eyes staring right into me. Sizing me up. Maybe wolves are smarter than anybody knows and they could just tell that I was only a day or two away from dying. I’m a loudmouth, gutsy woman who doesn’t take any prisoners… but maybe that wolf had seen the real me?

Around and around my thoughts went. For a sweet moment, the cold left me entirely and I must have slipped into a deep, desperate sleep where I imagined I was in his lap, and he was cradling me and stroking the hair from my face. When I woke up I found the stroking was nothing but a ray of cool morning light on my cheek. I almost didn’t know what to think. Had I died? Was this silent, scentless place heaven? With creaking bones I propped myself onto my elbows and glanced around in disbelief.

It was morning. And if my clammy, aching limbs were anything to go by, I was still alive. I flopped back down again, relief washing through me. I wasn’t in the belly of a wolf after all. My delirious midnight prayers had worked, apparently. The day had reset and I had another chance to try again.

I hugged my knees close to myself and shut my eyes tight, a little joyful flutter in my chest. My best hope right now was being found and knowing I ruined the bachelorette. I almost couldn’t decide if an anonymous death in the forest was better than everyone seeing what a ridiculous idiot I’d been to come out here alone like this. The worst part was, Hugo was right. I did get cold. I gingerly sat up and put my back to the tree, waiting for my sore leg muscles to wake up. With closed eyes I let the rising sun warm my eyelids. I’d get to walking again soon, but not just yet.

“You’re such an asshole. I can’t believe this is really happening. How did I land up here anyway?” I asked the fresh air. Little tweets and flutters in the trees carried on, oblivious to me and my weary body. “The joke is I didn’t even want to go to this stupid bachelorette. Who even has a bachelorette in a cabin in the woods? It’s lame.” The forest was a good listener. I watched the sun make pale yellow and green squiggles behind my eyelids. I remembered the moment in the pool yesterday, and that feeling of surrender. “You’ll be happy to know that your stupid jacket probably kept me alive last night, you know that? That’s just like you. Even when you’re not here somehow everything is still about you.”

“Really?”

I nearly leapt out of my skin. I was on my feet in a heartbeat, spinning around to find the source of the voice. And there he stood, like a vision between two tree trunks, down on his haunches.

“Hugo!” I said, but my hands were at my mouth and muffled my voice. I had definitely died. I was crazy. I was hallucinating. This couldn’t be possible. His smile was warm but weak, just like the morning sunshine.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, my voice croaking. He shrugged.

“About an hour.”

Crap. I felt dizzy.

“So you…”

“Heard you talking to yourself? Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were talking in your sleep or what. I didn’t want to bother you.”

I stared at him, flabbergasted.

“You didn’t want to bother me? What the hell are you even doing out here anyway?” I cried. My feet hurt. My eyes hurt. My shoulders hurt. I just wanted to go home.

“We have to stop bumping into each other like this, huh?” he said and grinned at me. I was aghast.

Somehow in this dense, cold forest he had tracked me down and found me within 24 hours. I had been so desperate all night, so scared and alone, and now here he was, plopped down in the middle of my survival ordeal all neatly shaved and looking bright eyed. It was too much to take in. My eyes fell to a backpack he had tucked between his feet. I rubbed my head and tried to think. I had prayed for help last night, any kind of help …but I guess I should have made the disclaimer that Hugo Turner wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

“You came all the way out here for me?” I asked quietly.

He nodded, and made no attempt to hide the fact that he was scanning my body.

“But how did you…? This forest is huge, how could you have…?”

“Found you? I don’t know. Call it my spidey senses. Plus, you left a pretty obvious trail.”

I looked back in awe at the place I had spent all night sleeping.

“So, what happened?” he asked. I definitely wasn’t imagining it – he was staring right at my boobs. I glared at him.

“Nothing.”

“You look like you were mauled by wolves, Becky, come on, don’t say nothing.”

I wished so hard in that moment that his smile wasn’t having such a strong effect on me. I hated him seeing me like this. Vulnerable, bare-faced, tired. Plus, my clothing was dirty, which was almost worst than almost dying a forest.

“Well, it was wolves, actually” I said with a matter-of-fact shrug. I began to dust the mud clumps off my wretched cocoon and pack it up as best as I could. The look on his face was priceless.

“Wait… you’re not kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Becky, shit, are you okay?” he said and raced over to me. But one stern look from me and he stopped in his tracks. Having to stand here covered in leaves and twigs and admit what a moron I had been was embarrassment enough … I did not need Hugo thinking I was some damsel that needed his brand of rescuing, no thank you.

“I’m fine,” I said with a tight smile. We hadn’t seen each other for years. It was hard to believe that the body of the man just a few feet from me used to be so familiar to me, as familiar as the back of my own hand. Now he was a stranger. A stranger I once knew. I cracked my back and glanced around, still marveling at how the hell he had managed to find me.

“How did you even know to come and look for me in the first place?” I didn’t want him to get a big head or anything, but it was impressive.

“I don’t know. Instinct. I just knew you were in trouble, so I came.”

I laughed out loud.

“That has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said, and began walking.

I heard his footsteps as he followed behind me. There was a time in my life when just a smile like that from the charming Hugo Turner would make my knees weak. There was a time when him and I would have taken an opportunity out in the woods like this to fuck like rabbits. But not anymore. I was older and wiser now, and I’d never let him in that close again, ever. Even if he was rescuing me.

“So, uh, you’re welcome,” he teased.

“Yeah, sorry. I had a rough night. I just want to get out of here. Thanks for …coming to get me.”

“No problem.”

We walked.

“Uh, Becky…”

I spun around and gave him a death stare.

“Look, I’m grateful and all, but can we just not talk, please?” I said. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say, about anything. I didn’t want to see that smile. He shrugged again and flashed me precisely the kind of look I was trying to avoid thinking about.

“Sure, of course. It’s just that, well, you’re going the wrong way…”