I kept going, past Drift and the few other stores, coffee shops and restaurants, and farther still. It was the first time since I’d arrived that I’d explored this side of town and, with the confidence in my abilities bolstered, I kept going. I passed a bar and grill called the Place Down the Road, and a blue neon sign above the barn-style door flickered sporadically, proclaiming it to be open. It looked almost full inside, and I craned my neck to see the terrace on the side, which was lit up with twinkling fairy lights, and looked just as crowded. The smell of fish and chips wafted through the air, making my stomach rumble.

I nabbed a free parking spot a little farther down and doubled back on foot, not yet certain I could face that much hubbub. When I got a little closer, I looked across the street and saw one of the only people I recognized—Lily. She sat on a bench alone, her head bent. As I looked at her, she lifted her chin, and when she saw me her mouth dropped open. She slowly raised her hand in a tentative wave, and when I returned the gesture, she smiled.

Hoping my feet wouldn’t betray me and make me trip, I crossed the road and walked up to her, the warmth of a blush creeping over my face. Once again, I felt as if I were a teenager—although I had no recollection of what I’d been like, but if my dry mouth and the way my stomach had turned itself into knots were anything to go by, I must’ve been an awkward, tongue-tied fool.

“Hi,” I muttered when I got there, before trying again. “Hello, Lily.”

Her face lit up, a small dimple forming on her left cheek. “Couldn’t sleep, either?” she said, and I shook my head. “Are you and Maya out for a walk, too?”

“No, it’s just me.”

“Oh, well, uh, do you want to...?” She gestured to the empty spot next to her.

I sat down and the silence settled between us. I wasn’t sure how to act. This was a woman I’d cared for, maybe loved, even. We’d no doubt been together countless times, yet, here I was, searching for something to say. I stole a sideways glance at her. She’d swept her hair into a loose ponytail, which had come a little undone, a few soft strands framing her face, reaching down to her neck. Her deep blue eyes, straight nose and high-set cheekbones—each feature beautiful in its own right—combined, made her stunning.

She turned her head, and when she caught my stalker-in-the-headlights gaze, she laughed. “You’re staring. Stop it or you’ll make me feel really self-conscious.”