The sun had already lifted itself over Solmere's rooftops, casting golden fingers across the dew-slicked grass as Mark walked toward the back path by the river bend.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the echo of last night's conversation still tugging at his chest.
"If you're not too busy… I'll be waiting." Jay's voice had been light, teasing—but underneath it, Mark caught something that stayed with him long after their chats had ended.
He found him where he always did—by the half-finished fence near the old fig tree, leaning casually with arms crossed, eyes narrowed against the light. Jay looked up before Mark could speak, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"You made it," Jay said, feigning surprise. "I thought you'd flake."
Mark raised a brow, approaching. "I said I'd come, didn't I?"
"You say a lot of things," Jay teased, pushing off the fence. "But showing up? That's new."
