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“Okay.” She smiles at me. “Just take it in, I guess.”
“Just take it in.” I nod. “Listen to the sound of?—”
“Nothingness.” She chuckles. “Literally nothing.”
“Peaceful, right?”
“I don’t think I have heard one siren since I’ve been here,” she tells me as we walk through the forest. “You hear it so much in the city, it’s just background noise at some point, but now that I think about it, I haven’t missed it.”
“Glad to hear it.” I watch her look down at the horse as we walk side by side in the darkness. Neither of us says anything, and we just enjoy the moment. The lights start to come into focus as we make our way over to what I spent the afternoon setting up.
“What is that light?” She points at the fairy lights I strung up in the trees.
“That is surprise number two.” I look over at her, seeing her eyes go big. “What is better than a quiet nighttime ride than a nighttime picnic?”
“You—” Her head whips around. “You set up a picnic in a forest?”
“Well, I would ask you to cook, but—” I chuckle.
“No one needs that in their life,” she continues for me, “not one person. It’s so bad.” She laughs at herself. “But dessert?” She shrugs one shoulder. “I rocked dessert.”
“That you did,” I agree, coming to a stop near the picnic area and getting off my horse before walking to her and helping her down.
“Are they going to be okay?” she asks me, and I nod as I lead her over to the blanket I placed out here. “This is so pretty.” She looks around at all the hanging lights.
“Sofia got engaged here,” I tell her, and she looks at me with big eyes. “We set all this up for Matty.”
“It must have been so pretty.” She turns in a circle, taking it all in.
“So good surprise?” I ask, and she nods.
“It’s like the best surprise I’ve ever had”—she walks to the blanket and sits down—“and I didn’t have to plan any of it.”
“You really plan everything?” I ask, and she nods.
“Pretty much,” she admits. “I even planned how I wanted my proposal to be.” She leans in. “No one knows that one.”
I just stare at her. “Wait, he proposed to you, but you planned it?”
She shrugs. “I guess that was the first red flag.” Her voice sounds of hurt. “It is what it is, I guess.”
“He’s a fucking dick,” I tell her honestly.
“Why did you and Patricia get divorced?” she asks me as I open the basket and pull out the sandwiches I picked up.
“We just grew apart,” I share, “or better yet, we grew up and changed.” I take out a bottle of water, handing it to her. “And when we changed, we didn’t mesh as well as we thought we did.”
“Did it bother you?” She unwraps her sandwich.
“I spent a good nine months coming to terms with it before saying it out loud. We both did.” I unwrap my own sandwich. “Then I sat down and spoke to my dad, and he said ‘you’re too young to be miserable for the rest of your life.’” I smile, thinking back at the talk. “So I went home and told her how I felt, and she cried because she felt the same.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a couple who broke up on good terms before.” She takes a bite of her sandwich. “So mature. I wanted to light the whole house on fire.”
“But you didn’t,” I point out.
“I didn’t because I wanted to get the fuck out of there. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that will ever happen to make me forget what I saw.” She closes her eyes. “On my favorite Christmas duvet on top of that.”
“Bastards,” I say, making her laugh.
