He then told me that he wanted to tune with me.

We don’t know how, I said.

Of course we do, we just did.

But not alone.

If we want to enough we will, we’ll figure it out.

He looked at me and he could see that I did. I wanted to feel it with him again; that ecstatic connectedness.

Please, he urged. Who’s going to stop us? Who will even know?

We’re probably being watched in the street right now, I said. This conversation. The fact that I’m not already at my car driving away.

So we better make a decision.

I shook my head, and looked down. He asked me what I was thinking. I told him that I thought we were in a very vulnerable and unstable moment in our lives, and that I didn’t want to regret this.

Step into the new room, Claire, he said, starting to walk off while holding my gaze. There are no walls anymore.

The park bordered the back fields of the high school. Besides a small playground, and some bike paths, large swaths of it remained wild, making it a favourite spot for dog walkers and birdwatchers. We walked through the darkness, with only our phones to light our way. The sky was empty that night; no moon, and no stars. Just temporary constellations appearing and disappearing around us in the blinking of fireflies. Just the smell of mud, and wet sage, the sound of cricket song, and our feet rustling through the underbrush, snapping twigs and branches. Kyle said he could traverse the park with his eyes closed, and I joked that we pretty much were. He seemed to be leading us somewhere in particular, and I let him take me. I suddenly felt utterly unburdened by obligation. I had nowhere to be but here. No family to return home to. No job to wake up early for in the morning. I could stay out all night in this park with Kyle, and no one would know, and no one would care.

We arrived at a thicket of bushes and he parted some branches to reveal a narrow path. He walked through first, and held the branches back so that they didn’t smack me in the face.

Careful where you step, he said. The ground was uneven, and raised roots snagged my feet, causing me to trip towards him. I put my hand on his shoulder and kept it there, so I could focus on looking down at the ground. We walked for what felt like three or four minutes, deep into the overgrowth.

God, what is that incredible smell? I asked.

Juniper.

He broke off a twig and handed it to me. I brought it to my nose.

Smells like a clear blue sky, I said. Or the colour indigo.

Or gin.

Oh yes, of course. You know, I bet I’m thinking of the Bombay Sapphire bottle, I said, laughing.