He shook some dirt off a sock, and then paused. Slow down, Leo. Even Walter would probably tell him to cool it. Lily was quickly and methodically packing up everything while Leo stood there slowly pulling his clothes on and thinking soft-focus thoughts about what their forever could look like. He didn’t even know if she’d want that.
As if on cue, she asked, “Can you pack up the tent?” with only a thin layer of exasperation.
In minutes, he had it disassembled and stored. Lily spread the map out on a rock. “There’ll be some pretty tricky bouldering here,” she said, pointing to a section about a mile away, “but that’s not what I’m worried about.”
He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. Finally: “What are you worried about?”
Lily took a deep breath through her nose, staring at the map. “I’m worried the cabin isn’t there anymore. It was ancient then, and that was twenty years ago. The photo is from even before that.”
“Even if the cabin has fallen down,” he said, “the stump will still be there. At least presumably, right?”
“Right, but a stump is a lot harder to find from memory than a cabin is.”
“Good point.”
They shoveled a few protein bars into their mouths, chugged down lukewarm instant coffee, and set out. Immediately, Leo understood why Lily had been in such a hurry. By 10:15, it was hot as literal hell. Dry, too, in a way that made his skin feel too tight. Upside: whenever they found a patch of shade, they could stand in it and feel like the temperature dropped at least a full ten degrees. Downside: there just wasn’t that much shade in this part of the Maze, and when they got to the part where there was, the sun would be the least of their worries. Some sections were so intricate and narrow, they could go in and die of thirst or heat stroke before they found their way back out again.
About a full hour into the slow hike—over boulders, finding narrow paths through scratchy blackbrush—Lily turned to speak over her shoulder. “Should we talk about it?”
Leo grinned at her back. She knew he wouldn’t bring it up again. Now he had to wonder if it’d taken her the entire hour to get that simple question out. “We can, sure.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said outright, and his stomach rolled. Great start. “And so if what happened last night upset you at all, I want to say I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders dipped and flexed as she scrabbled up and over a boulder and then reached back to help him. But Leo was tall enough to reach the top and pull himself up. “I’m good,” he told her. “Thanks.”
She stopped to catch her breath at the top, squinting at him with the sun at his back. “Were you responding to what I said or was that about the rock?”
“The rock,” he said. “I’m thinking about the other part.” Digging the water out of his pack, Leo took a long drink and then admitted, “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, so maybe just get it all out. I already told you where I stood.”
“So that’s true, then?” she asked. “What you said last night?”
“Which part?”
Even flushed from the heat, her cheeks went pink. She had to turn and keep hiking before she could answer. “That thing you said about how you fell in love ten years ago and never moved on,” she called back.
“Yeah.” He leapfrogged across a few rocks to catch up. “Can we stop, please?”
She relented, ducking into the shade between two large red sandstone pillars.
“I want us to be able to look at each other when we have this conversation,” Leo said, following her into the dark, cool space. Lily leaned back against one side and he leaned against the other, facing her. “I want to be very clear that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”
She gnawed her lip, and for a brief second, her eyes teared up. She blinked the moisture away. “I think I might.”
His chest took on a euphoric, caving-in feeling. Leo fought the urge to raise his fists in victory. “Okay.”
“But it’s not as simple as it was then.”
“Probably not,” he agreed. “But I lived my life in the most responsible, boring way imaginable for the past decade.” Leo looked to his left, out of their little crack in the rock and to one of the most beautiful views he’d ever seen, red stone and tanzanite-blue sky. “I think I’m done with that. Things are easier now that Cora is grown, and I’m not afraid of making a huge leap. When I was twenty-two, with every bone in my body, I wanted to stay in Laramie with you. But I couldn’t.” He paused, studying her, hoping she understood the sincerity of his words. “I can now.”