Sun and Stone

II.

"El, stop!" I flinched at Gray's sharp tone, probably looking like a toddler caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Sheepishly withdrawing my hand back into my lap, I glowered back. We were sitting a few feet apart, backs pressed to a cliff wall with a fire crackling at our feet. Gray's body sagged in a way that meant his patience was wearing beyond thin. The rest of the day had been spent scrambling through unfamiliar terrain, the creek bed proving to be filled with boulders and loose shale that crumbled under our steps. Nearing the end of a weeklong trip, after spending everyday together, Gray was bound to be at his wits end with the unpredictability I forced on him, and was becoming snappish.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to make the flames a bit bigger. If we moved this piece here, it will create better airflow." Gray's face softened at my apology. He put up with so much for my sake, even if he was a prematurely aging grump most of the time. This was our normal routine. I pushed for fun and adventure, Gray resisted and insisted on caution at every turn. At the end of the day though, we both had a blast and made it through with minimal damage.

"Just leave it for a bit, okay? You make it so big and it burns so fast, we'll have to get more wood before we crash." I rolled my eyes at this but accepted his reasoning. We lapsed into a comfortable silence. At least it started out that way. After a few minutes, Gray glanced my way and his body tensed when he caught my face beginning to pinch. I rolled my eyes again, but didn't speak. Gray was such a worrier, waiting for disaster around every corner. I couldn't blame him for his tension though. We were so attuned to each-other; I knew he was waiting for me to finally open up about everything. He had been patient and given me space for months, even letting me sulk through our normally enjoyable vacation. It was the last night, and I knew he wouldnt let me get through it without finally talking. But I still felt that same creeping sense of doom as I considered how to start the conversation.

"So..." Gray started. I could feel a lump rise in my throat as it constricted with anxiety. "Are we gonna talk about Bakery girl?"" His voice was hesitant, almost apologetic.

"Only if you want to give me all the spicy details of what I was hearing through the walls last Saturday night." I threw this back knowing Gray would be too prude to share. I did not want to talk about my most recent dating history with Marianne, also known as Bakery girl. The breakup was connected to so many other issues, and although I trusted Gray, knew he only wanted to be there for me, I couldnt tell him what was going on. A stabbing pain flitted through my chest at the thought and my body tensed. I ached for the release of talking to my friend, and hated the worry that pinched his brow as he now sighed and looked away from me in feigned acceptance.

Seeing the fissure between us growing, I thanked the heavens that Gray had not noticed that Marianne was still sending me regular messages, or that she had even stopped by the diner on my last shift to try and corner me into talking. It would only make his worry that much more overbearing. How could I explain to him that despite ticking every box on my dream girl check list, being with her was exhausting? How could I explain the dark cloud that had been building over me, practically chasing me into these very woods time and again over the past months?

Gray didn't press the subject further, instead moving into a series of stretches beside the warm fire. I let out a breath of relief. We communicated well after so many years together, learning from previous mistakes when to let things go or when advice was needed. I leaned into his tall side as he stretched his arms skyward. Stern face breaking into a rare smile, Gray wrapped his arm around me.

I tried to keep my mind on more positive thoughts while I looked into the flickering flames at our feet. I was happy to be here at this moment, despite the sore muscles and complaints of exhaustion. The familiar terrain was calling to me more urgently in the past months. Finding myself spending more time out on these trails, with each visit I was more reluctant to return to the town I still called home. Gray joined me when he could, but many afternoons I would head out alone while he worked.