Jenna went to her room for a while, but she couldn’t get back to sleep. Mostly because she was reeling from wanting to bang her husband, which was an odd place to be, mentally.

She wanted to go back to Sean’s room. Claim it as hers, too, and wait for him to ask her what was wrong again.

Eventually she got up and put on the coffee.

Caffeine would help chase away the weird feelings. So would fresh air.

When she’d lived in Vancouver, she’d always tried to do something on her first day off each week. Go for a hike, hit a market, something like that.

Today was her first day off. It had been a big week. She needed to recharge and refill her well.

As the coffee percolated, she moved restlessly through the living room. There was still a row of banker’s boxes along the wall from when Sean’s brother had moved him in. Papers from his previous life he hadn’t wanted to deal with just yet.

He didn’t want to deal with anything from his previous life.

Not his papers, not his wife.

Resentment bubbled up fierce and fast inside her. Damn it.

Why was she getting mad about a few boxes?

It’s not the boxes. It’s the box he’s put you in.

She kicked at the nearest banker’s box and the lid fell off. Sighing, she picked it up and went to put it back, but the books inside caught her attention.

Big, spiral bound notebooks, stacked face up. The top one was neatly labeled. 2014-2015 Training Log.

She flipped it open. Each page was a journal entry of sorts, the physical training Sean had done that day. Running, weight training, cross-training, active rest. It was a peek inside the life he had before he met her, before his world turned upside down.

It looked like he’d spent most of the winter that year in Florida, training on the Gulf coast while Pine Harbour was covered in snow. But by the spring, he was back. She flipped through the next few pages. First swim in the lake—fucking cold! Great for the legs. She laughed at that, and then gasped when she saw the date. She’d put her toe in the lake now, in the middle of July, and it was still pretty chilly. Standing in it in May was insanity.

From the kitchen, the coffee maker beeped.

Caffeine time.

She went and poured herself a cup, then went back to the boxes. She put the training log away and peeked into the next box. Medals and framed photos.

She’d thought about printing some of their pictures from Spain. Would Sean like a wedding picture on the mantle? Or would he hide that away, too?

She sank into a chair at the table and pulled out her phone. She hadn’t looked at the photos in weeks, and scrolling through them now probably wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t help herself.

Sean’s bedroom door swung open as she was on the photos from the drive through the mountains.

“Morning,” he said quietly.

“Coffee’s on,” she said without looking up.

Her pulse pounded in her neck as she listened to him move into the kitchen and pour himself a cup. For a big guy, he moved lightly in general, and as he recovered, his footsteps were getting quieter and quieter. Now all she heard was the tap of his cane every few seconds.

He slid into the seat across from her. “You didn’t sleep well.”

She’d slept great right up until she felt guilty for rubbing her ass against his crotch. “Just woke up early, that’s all.”

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t want to say she’d been looking at their wedding pictures and doing her damnedest not to cry, so she didn’t say anything at all. She just sighed and pushed her phone away.

He looked at it, then back up to her. “Bad news?”

“No.” She waved her hand toward the boxes. “Why haven’t you unpacked?”

He didn’t look over there. He’d gotten so good at not turning his head more than he needed to, and she felt bad for pointing to something out of his field of vision.

“Your boxes of racing stuff.”

“I know what you meant.” His jaw flexed and he took a sip of coffee. “I should put those in storage. I don’t need to unpack them.”

“Better to keep your history packed away?” It came out sharper than she intended it, and he gave her a look that said, whoa, pissed off much?

Yeah, maybe she was.

“Some of it,” he said slowly. “The running part. That’s done now. In the past.”

“And the rest of it?”

He looked at her phone again. “What is this about?”

She bit her lip. The sharp, bright pain felt good.

“May I?” He reached for the device.

She nodded. Sure, why not. She told him the passcode, and watched, heart in her throat, as he scrolled through the pictures she’d been looking at.

“We look so happy,” he finally said. “I lost my phone. When I was evacuated, all of my stuff was packed up, but some of it was lost in transit. My phone was in that shipment, I guess. I lost my copies of these.”

“I’ve had them the whole time.” And he hadn’t asked to see them. Man, she could not strip that barbed tone from her voice. Maybe she should head out for the day. Get some fresh air and some perspective again.

He gave her another careful, searching look. “What do you want me to say here?”

I love you. That’s what she wanted him to say. Over and over again, until it was the only thing she heard. Until it drowned out all the other shit, like how he couldn’t sleep with her and couldn’t see a future for himself and couldn’t be happy.

If he only admitted that he still loved her, the rest would be bearable. They’d get through it together.

But the thought that he’d only loved her when he was whole, that in sickness or in health had been a lie for him… that just about broke her.

Still she kept her mouth shut, though.

No good would come of admitting how much she needed him.

He didn’t look away, at least. That was something.

“Those two weeks together were perfect,” he finally said.

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She took a deep breath.

“They were great,” she said carefully. “Isn’t that the thing about vacations? They’re an escape from real life. I don’t expect our marriage to be like a vacation.”

“I…I think I did.” He sighed. “I know, that’s terrible. I don’t now, to be clear. But I feel like I should confess my stupidity from before, to put us on the right footing going forward.”

“Going forward?”

“Yes. God, of course, yes.”

“Sometimes I’m not sure that’s what you want.”

“Even when I wasn’t in my right mind, I wanted you.”

Wanted her. It wasn’t an affirmation of love, but it was something.

He leaned across the table and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “What do you want to do today?”

She wanted to stop wishing things were different. She wanted to be grateful for the progress they’d made. “I want to get outside. Shake off the heavy stuff and get some sunshine on my face.” She lifted her gaze and found him watching her. “Want to come with me?”

* * *

Hell, yeah.

Sean knew he’d fucked up, on more than one level, in more than one way.

Ever since she’d left his bed in the early morning, he’d been rolling over every bit of their short history together.

He hadn't known how good he'd had it. How sweet and precious a thing Jenna's love had been, not even when he lost it the first time. Maybe because she hadn't given up on him, and he'd known that deep down.

He'd been petrified, of course. Of not being good enough for her any longer. Of not being able to love her, physically. Or mentally. Of never again meeting the impossibly high standard set by another man, a reckless daredevil who believed himself immortal.

And yet even as he cowered at Dean’s house, on some level he’d known she would eventually come to him.

More cockiness.

More hubris.

And he hadn't been good enough. Hadn't loved her the way she deserved.

He’d ached at the loss of her this morning. Had wanted to haul her back into his bed. He ached and hated himself, and for a good long while, he let that dark anger twist through his mind.

Not good enough.

She's better off without you.

But he’d been down that road, and he couldn’t accept it. He wasn’t actually that selfless. Admitting to himself how possessive he was gave life to a new realization.

He hadn’t tried hard enough.

And she’d still hung in there. That was a gift she’d given him.

Gifts needed to be returned in kind.

It was time for him to up his game.

“How would you like to go camping?” The invitation was out of his mouth before he realized he didn’t know where any of his camping shit was. Well, they’d find stuff.

“Sure…” The way she trailed off, he could hear the doubt in her voice. Was it a good idea for him to go camping? He didn’t know. But it felt right, and that was all that mattered.

“Just for the night. We won’t go far. I’ve got a secret spot.”

“Okay.”

He stood and moved around to her side of the table. “And we’ll talk more. I promise.”

She gave him a searching look that cracked his chest open. “Okay.”

It would be. He was going to fix this.

They packed enough food for lunch and dinner then checked out the garage.

“Thank God for type-A older brothers,” Sean said as he hauled out an over-sized plastic tub clearly marked camping. And behind it was pay dirt—Sean’s own camping stuff, which was more suited for expeditions like back country hiking or mountain climbing, but would also work for his new normal of a meadow just outside of town.

He carefully divided what they would need between two packs, leaving enough room for Jenna to pack some clothes and her pillow on the top of hers.

They filled up a bunch of water bottles, grabbed the gear, and climbed into the truck.

“You’ve got your medication?” Jenna asked as he slid his cane between the seat and the door.

“Yep.” He forced down the burn of resentment. New normal. It was fine. Meds had replaced gels and jerky. Maybe one day he’d carry all of them, and go further than a few clicks down the road.

In the grand scheme of things, this was a win. He’d suggested a spontaneous camping trip and now they were heading out the door ninety minutes later. He was a lucky motherfucker that he wasn’t still flat on his back at Dean’s house.

He directed her out of town. As they passed Mac’s, he pointed at the woods behind the diner. “There’s a path there that hikes into this spot, but it’s easier to drive around. There’s an access road off the highway.”

Access road was generous. It was an ungraded dirt lane.

Jenna slowed right down as they bumped over new holes that had appeared since the last time he’d driven in to the meadow.

“What is this place?” Jenna asked as she parked the truck at the dead end.

“A secret.” He grabbed his cane. “Come on.”

The snowmobile and hiking path that snaked all the way up the peninsula cut through the forest right in front of them, and he pointed that out as they crossed it. Their own path, which cut due west toward the lake, was narrower, but clearly marked and relatively easy underfoot.

That didn’t mean it was easy for him. The added weight of his pack made the five hundred metre walk tiring enough that Sean felt his pulse increasing as they walked.

Damn it, he needed to start walking with a weighted bag. This was embarrassing.

But that was forgotten the second Jenna caught sight of the clearing, and it was as if Sean was seeing it for the first time again through her eyes.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed.

The dense, scrubby pine trees gave way to lichen-covered rock—large, smooth boulders that formed a natural barrier around the sunken clearing. He grinned as she scrambled forward. The view got even better in a second.

“Oh. Wow. Sean, this is gorgeous!” Jenna laughed and danced ahead of him.

He was looking at her as she looked at the meadow. He couldn’t agree more. “Very.”

She twirled in a circle. “What should we do first?”

“Head to the right, along the tree line. You’ll find my camp site.”

She jumped from one rock to the next, her legs warm and golden in the mid-morning sun, and his head spun just thinking about doing that. But he wasn’t jealous, which surprised him. Yeah, he moved slower now. But he was moving.

He was camping.

Small miracles.

She found his preferred camping spot among the trees at the edge of the clearing, with the well-used fire pit he’d made out of stones, and they set up the tent.

Fatigue nipped at him, and he wanted to push back at it, but it wasn’t yet lunch. If he ignored it and ended up with a migraine, ruining his first night outside, he’d be pissed at himself.

“I should stretch out for a few minutes,” he said after stringing their food up a tree, inside his pack. “I don’t need a nap, but just a rest.”

She beamed at him. “For sure. A nap sounds great, actually.”

They left the tent flap open, and at first Jenna lay with her head toward the door, watching the meadow. But after a few minutes, she sat up and stretched, then flipped over and lay out on her sleeping bag the other way, her head now next to his.

His eyes were closed, but he could feel her shifting around. Feel her attention on his face, and slowly he blinked his eyelids open.

“Hey.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” she whispered.

“You’re not.” He reached for her hand and she wove her fingers through his. Something inside his chest tugged.

That’s your heart, idiot.

“How are you feeling?”

He was pretty sure she meant physically. That was the longest he’d walked so far, and carrying a pack was new, too. If she meant emotionally…well, he hadn’t sorted that out yet. So he went with the easier answer. “That took a bit out of me, I won’t lie.”

“But you made it.” She smiled at him. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see this place again.” His voice caught as he said that.

“But you did.” Her eyes were bright as she bit her lip.

“It’s been a while since I’ve shared a secret with you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shook her head. “In the past. Is this a secret? This meadow?”

“Yeah, sort of.” He took a deep breath. “I own it, actually. It’s not worth much, because there’s no road access, no water or sewer or hydro pick ups. But I didn’t care about any of that.”

“Sean!” She laughed and squeezed his hand. “That’s quite the secret. How cool is that? And I totally get it. You just wanted a retreat.”

He grinned. “Yeah, it’s a little piece of the world that’s just for me. And now you.”

He didn’t miss how that made her breath catch in her throat. Her face went all soft as she exhaled. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

He pulsed his fingers around hers. “No, the thanks is all mine. You’ve been a saint these past few months, and I’ve been hard to be around. I’m sorry about that too. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

“I signed up for you. No matter what.”

He rolled onto his back and held out his arm. “Come here.” She burrowed into his side, and he brushed his lips against her temple. “We’re going to be okay. Do you remember me telling you about the sandstorms?”

She nodded. “We had one just before I left. It was kind of crazy. Almost zero visibility. I slept at the hospital instead of going back to my tent.”

“The first one I experienced, that I told you about—that was the worst. Totally disorienting. The world upside down. But there were others, too. And it wasn’t always so dense that I couldn’t see anything. So you could think…hey, it’s not so bad, we could head out in this if we’re careful. But it wasn’t effective. We learned it was best to wait until the storm passed before launching another offensive. Always.”

“Are we in a sandstorm?”

“Is it too clumsy an analogy?”

“No.” She sighed against his chest. “I can see what you mean.”

“It will pass. It is passing. We’ll get there.” He wanted to promise her more. But he’d promised her everything once, and fallen far short of that. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Words were cheap. This time, he was going to show her how he felt. Show her what he could do.

* * *

Jenna dozed off in the warmth of the sun-dappled tent, with Sean’s hard chest as her pillow. When she woke, the sun had curved past the high noon mark and was now shining in the west-facing flap of the tent and onto her legs.

“Oh, that’s hot,” she murmured, rolling away from Sean.

He grumbled something in his sleep and pulled her back into his side.

Well, that was hard to argue with.

She relaxed into his embrace and made herself a promise. No more sadness. Not today.

Sean roused a few minutes later, and once he’d stretched and taken his mid-day medication, they set off for a tour of his property.

“It’s mostly rock. This meadow in the middle is my favourite part. There’s a small pond on the far side, and then the land starts to drop away toward the next road. The lake is on the far side of that road” He pointed west. Thick trees stood in the way, but she could imagine it. “It’s not really passable.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Which means you’ve climbed it many times, haven’t you?”

“Twice, and we used ropes both times.” That led to a mini lecture on the different kinds of rock. Which ones were good for free climbing and which would crumble away if looked at wrong. Jenna couldn’t get over how dynamic he was outside. It reminded her of their walks in Arcos, when he talked about Moorish architecture and the history of the region for hours.

“We? Who did you climb with?”

“Tom. He’s on the search and rescue team. He’s never met a challenging climb he hasn’t wanted to master. I didn’t tell him this was my land, only that we had permission.”

“Where are the boundaries of your property?”

“From the road, where that access point was, to the far side of the meadow. The descent on the other side technically belongs to someone else, but it doesn’t even have an access lane.”

“Amazing.”

“There are neighbours to the south and north, but their houses are closer to the highway, in the woods. I don’t think they’re even aware I come out here. This is probably the first time in years I’ve parked a truck in the lane.”

“Did you always hike in?”

“Yeah.” He tapped his cane on the ground and gazed into the distance. “More often I ran it. The snowmobile trail is great for running.”

“The wet forest!” She snapped her fingers. “That’s what you said you’d missed the most.”

He nodded. “Yep.”

Damn it, she’d slid them into some melancholy territory. No more sadness. “And I said—”

“Bubble baths.” He grinned at the trees ahead of them. “None of those out here.”

“I’ll have one when we get home tomorrow.”

He turned his whole body around and gave her an inscrutable look. “I like that.”

“The bubble bath plan?”

“Sure. But the way you call it home.”

She stepped forward, then again, until she was right against him. “That’s because it is my home.” It’s where you are. But that would be too much sentimentality for this day.

He gave her a quick hug before he changed the subject to gathering wood for dinner.

Later, after grilled mushrooms and smoky chicken thighs that had the crispiest, most perfect skin she’d ever tasted, Jenna made them makeshift s’mores for dessert as they watched the sun set over the meadow.

Instead of graham crackers, she was sandwiching the ooey, gooey, melty goodness between two chocolate chip cookies.

“I didn’t even know we had marshmallows in the house,” Sean said as he licked the remnants of his first one off his fingers. “And I will totally have another if you’re offering.”

“Of course.” He didn’t eat a lot of dessert. If he had a secret marshmallow addiction, that was good information to file away. “And I just bought them yesterday. Fate.”

She made him two more, then set down her official marshmallow roasting stick and sat back next to him on the smooth, worn log behind the fire pit to enjoy her own second helping.

The fire snapped and crackled, and in the distance, an owl cried out. Hoot. There were a lot of other forest noises, too. The rustling of little animals moving through the brush, a breeze shifting the tops of the trees back and forth.

All of it was perfect.

“This is exactly what I needed today,” she said quietly as she finished her cookies.

She turned her head and gave Sean a grateful smile.

He returned the expression then his gaze slowly slid to her mouth. She could feel her lips tremble under the weight of his attention. His eyelids hooded as he watched her, and her smile fell away.

His own mouth twisted into a rueful grimace. “I don’t want to rush anything between us.”

“No.” Her chest hurt as she nodded. “I understand that.”

He reached out and brushed his fingertips against her cheekbone. Light as air, but the simple touch shook her to her core. “But…”

Yes, she loved the sound of but.

She shifted closer, and he cupped her cheek. “Jenna…”

“Slow is smart,” she whispered. Her heart hammered against her ribs as his lips parted.

“Slow,” he repeated. “Slow can also be sexy.”