loving you was breathing
but the breath disappearing
before it filled my lungs
- Rupi Kaur

Though this is our third run-in, and though I shouldn't have expected to escape without another encounter, seeing him still hits me with the force of a bullet. Josh. His voice reverberates through me and I stop where I stand. I turn and find him chasing after me at a slow jog. He was looking for me. I think about all the opportunities he had years ago to chase after me that he didn't take. Why now? What's changed?

"Josh," I breathe. "Hey."

"Hey." He grins at me and all I can see is the boy who drew me into his orbit all those years ago. "Were you talking to yourself again?"

Again. For years, I've thought of these memories as only mine, but they're not. These memories are ours--he knows me as well as I know him. All of the snapshots in my mind are shared between us. Josh remembers too.

"Uh, yeah. I was planning what I'm going to write in my article," I answer.

"How'd your meeting go?" he asks, catching up with me so we're only a few feet apart. The space is tense with these dusty shared memories.

"It was amazing, actually," I answer, losing myself in a smile over Teresa's incredible project. "She's in charge of this huge nation-wide project and it's so incredible that Columbus gets to be a part of it. I mean, this place could have a huge impact on the entire region, and--" I stop my rambling when I see a slow, steady grin spread across Josh's face. "What?"

"I just...I forgot how cute you look when you get excited about something."

My face flames at his words, and my heart flutters in my chest. Cute. He still thinks I'm cute. Something so childish shouldn't fill me with butterflies anymore, but it does. More than that, he remembers what we had; I wonder if he treasures those memories as much as I do. I look down at my feet and the sunlight that flickers through the leaves on the path.

"I, uh, I guess I should get going."

But I can't pull myself away from him. My eyes flicker back up to his and I want nothing more than to stay here talking with him for hours. Remember what he did to you. But this isn't the same boy who hurt me; he's changed, and by the softened lines around his eyes and the easy confidence in the set of his shoulders, I think he's changed for the better. Or at least I want to believe he has.

He says nothing, and I turn to go back to my car, my heart thumping an unsteady rhythm in my chest. "Wait, Rach. Don't go."

If only you'd said that four years ago. But despite my every resolution, his voice arrests me. My shoulders stiffen in indecision and I turn around. What is there to say if we continue to dance around the truth? Do I even have the courage to face the past if he brings it into the present?

"Stay," he murmurs, the silver in his eyes brought out by the warmth of the sky. "This camp, it's...it's mine, and I'd love to show it to you."

I suck in a breath. "It's yours?"

Years ago, Josh's dream was to run a place like this, to build a sanctuary for kids to find peace and rest in the outdoors because this was the only place he had peace growing up. I see the pride in his stance as he says the words and my heart swells for him.

"It's mine. After I graduated, well, I ended up here."

Before I can tell myself to keep the barricade erected between us, I reach for him and touch his forearm. "Josh, I'm so proud of you."

This first touch is tentative, involuntary, uncertain. Energy sparks between us where my fingertips graze his forearm. It's not the raging spark that I remember; rather, it feels like we have finally been reconnected and a rush of warmth flows through us again. I pull my hand away seconds later, unsure if the boundary I've crossed should have been breached.

Josh stares at my hand and then back up to me. "Thanks, Rach. That means a lot. Do you...can I show you around?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Please."

We fall into step like we've never fallen out and walk on the path around the lake. Josh tells me about all of the summer activities they host: adventure camps, sports camps, equestrian camps, you name it. He says that thousands of kids come here every summer to escape city life and spend time in nature. They even offer scholarships for kids without the money to afford camp.

"Wow," I say when he pauses in his story. "Josh, this is so incredible. You're doing everything you ever wanted to do."

And it's true. This was his dream, and it's come true. I can see how happy it makes him. I guess in a way my dreams have come true as well--I have a great job in journalism and wonderful friends and family--but I don't feel the same sense of contentment I see in his sun-dappled expression.

"It's incredible, Rach. I always wanted a place like this when I was a kid, and now..." he sighs, no need to fill in the silence.

We've always been better at talking between the lines.

"I'm so happy for you," I say, and I realize I mean it.

In all the years before, during, and after Josh, I couldn't help but want the best for him, even when that best wasn't me anymore. So little has changed between us; I still want him to be happy. But what does this mean for the state of my heart?

"Thanks, Rach."

We walk in silence, approaching the main lodge again. Most of the campers have dispersed to their bunkhouses and a gentle blanket of quiet has fallen over the hazy summer day.

"Remember this?" Josh says suddenly, motioning ahead of us.

I squint and search the area ahead of us; when I see what he's gesturing to, I laugh outright. A zipline stretches from a platform high in a tree across the lake. Of course I remember. For one of Josh's birthdays, he decided we should go ziplining. I was--actually, still am--terrified of heights, so I tried to just stay on the sidelines and watch, but Josh convinced me to give it a try. We went on the zipline together, Josh's laughter rippling in my ears as we soared. Flying through the air over the chasm below was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life, almost as exhilarating as falling for Josh in the first place.

"Of course I remember." I snort. "I about killed you for making me try that thing. I thought I was going to pee myself."

"But you loved it, remember?" he asks, his voice softening into wistfulness.

I turn to him and I see the uncertainty, the yearnful specter in his eyes. "Yeah, I remember." I remember everything.

A moment passes and I search his eyes--for what? I don't know. Do I want an apology? A chance to make amends? Closure? A confession? Something beyond all of that? I chide myself--of course not. You remember the good, but did one look in his eyes already make you forget the bad?

Josh smiles at me and motions towards the camp's main building. "Did you see the name of the lodge?"

"No, what is it?" I ask, catching up with him as we approach the stone steps.

A sign off to the right reads "Round Two Ranch: Lupus Lodge." Lupus. I'm taken back to a night on the ski hill where Josh showed me the Lupus constellation in the night sky and the matching tattoo on his hip. Lupus is the name of the wolf constellation, and Josh always told Ellie, his little sister, stories about a wolf that protected the princess. His tattoo and the name of the lodge are a testament to his dedication and protection for his baby sister.

"Oh, Josh," I whisper. "That's...it's the perfect name. For Ellie."

I glance at him and another slow smile takes over his face, his eyes twinkling into crescent moons. I can hear his thoughts: You remember. I want to tell him that I've forgotten nothing; though the sound of his voice and the twinkle in his eye faded in my memory, they never disappeared. I will always recognize his soul.

We sit on the stone steps side by side and I draw my knees to my chest. "So how is Ellie? She has to be, what, in high school now? Holy crap, we're old."

Josh laughs. "Yeah, she starts her junior year of high school next month. It's crazy how time flies." I have a suspicion he's talking about more than his baby sister growing up. "But she's doing well. She actually lives here, with me and Mom. Mom has family in Columbus, so we moved here after..."

He trails off and I study his face. For the first time, I see that the lines around his eyes aren't all from laughter; there's pain written there too. I want to ask him what happened, why he, his mom, and Ellie moved away, but I know it has to do with Lyndon, his dad. I also know I don't have the right to ask him these sorts of questions any more, but I still want to know, I want to comfort him in his pain.

"Mom and Dad got a divorce," he explains. "While I was finishing up at Regent. That's why we moved out here, and how we could afford this place, from their divorce settlement."

I watch Josh as he recites the tragedy that has to tear him apart. I met Lyndon Hunter twice and my hatred for him compounded each time. He called Josh stupid and worthless and treated him like garbage; I have to wonder if their family is better off without him in their life. Still, losing the presence of a father, even a horrible father like Lyndon Hunter, is a pain I can't imagine.

I resist the urge to comfort Josh; it's not my job anymore. I'm not even his friend, but I know too much about his life to pretend this is any less heart wrenching than it is. I wonder what he expects from me, sharing a piece of himself like this. He's always struggled to express how he feels, and to share something so monumental with me after so many years--I don't know what to say.

"I'd say I'm sorry to hear that, but..." I hesitate.

"But honestly, it's the best thing to ever happen to us," Josh finishes with a rueful grin. "Trust me, I know. He's not in Ellie's life anymore. It's definitely a good thing."

I still see the sorrow in his eyes, the longing for the father he never really had.

"I'm glad Ellie's doing well here. She's lucky to have you."

Josh smiles at me and a cool breeze washes over us, lifting a few sticky curls from the back of my neck. I glance at my watch and see that it's getting late--I need to get back to the office and write up this article. I can't force myself to rise, however. Josh and I have found some measure of peace in talking about his greatest love, his family, and I hate to lose that.

"What about your family? Your grandfather?"

The gentle equanimity of the moment is destroyed with one dark thought: You would know what happened to Gramps if you hadn't broken my heart. Josh was there when Gramps nearly died during the middle of my second year of college; he drove me to the hospital and spent the night with me. He returned to my hometown for Easter while we were dating, but then he betrayed me; he wasn't there when I needed him. He wasn't there for me when Gramps died.

"He died. September of that year." My voice has a bitter edge, commemorative of the time we lost together. The wall between us rebuilds.

Josh reaches a hand to scratch the back of his neck, eyebrows furrowed. "Crap, Rach. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well." I shrug. What more is there to say? Sorry isn't enough, not anymore. I stand up and brush off a few leaves from my pants. "I should get back to work." My eyes flicker back to his and my voice softens again. "Thanks for the tour, Josh. This place--you should be proud."

He stands up too and I stare at his hands, flexing straight. I remember the way they whispered across my skin, held my hand, traced my face. Go. But I can't. I'm rooted in place. The easy expression from moments ago is replaced by a stormy darkness. What if this is the final goodbye I never got? What if this is the closure I've been seeking? What if this is the end?

But I can't pronounce the word goodbye.  

~~~~~

I loved writing this chapter. It's hard to capture chemistry that comes back after so many years, but do you think there's still a future for them or is this just the leftovers from four years ago? Let me know in the comments and be sure to vote!