Jack:

I pulled the car into the clearing, gravel crunching under the tires as the campsite finally came into view. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting golden streaks of light across the open space. I killed the engine and let out a breath, staring out at the vast, green wilderness around us. There was something peaceful about this place, like time slowed down the minute we hit the woods.

“We made it,” I said, turning to the others with a grin.

From the backseat, Mark and Bex were already scrambling to get out, stretching and shaking off the stiffness from the drive. As usual, Mark was grinning like he had some inside joke he was about to spring on everyone. Bex, with her usual effortless energy, tugged at his sleeve, laughing as they tumbled out of the car like a pair of kids.

I glanced over at the other car, parked just behind us. Katie and Amy were getting out, too. Katie slid her sunglasses onto the top of her head, her auburn hair catching the last bits of sun as she stretched. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It hadn’t for a while, not since the whole thing with Brian.

It felt strange, not having him here. He’d always been part of the group, but after cheating on Katie and their ugly divorce, he was officially out of the picture. We hadn’t even discussed inviting him this time.

“Let’s get these tents up before the sun goes down,” I said, stepping out and popping the trunk.

Amy shot me a playful glare as she grabbed the tent bag. “You’re such a taskmaster, Jack. We just got here!”

“Well, unless you want to sleep under the stars,” I teased, pulling out my own gear.

Katie chuckled softly, and it was good to hear her laugh again, even if it was a little subdued. We all knew she was still working through the pain, even though she tried to act like everything was fine.

We set to work, falling into familiar roles as we struggled with the tents. We had two large tents, one for the boys and one for the girls. While Mark and Bex worked on our tent, Amy and I teamed up with Katie to put up their tent. By the time we finally got everything set up, the sun was almost down. The sky had faded to that deep blue, with the first stars winking overhead. Mark had already gotten a fire going, the flames flickering and casting a warm, golden light across the campsite. It was perfect.

“So, who’s ready to relax?” Bex asked, flopping into the chair next to Mark, looking utterly content.

Mark tossed beers to the rest of us, and the sound of the cans cracking open filled the air. It was like the signal that the night had officially begun. I settled into my camping chair, popping open a beer from the cooler and taking a long, satisfying sip. The first sip of a cold beer after a day like today just hits differently. Amy and Bex started talking about some new movie they’d seen, while I watched Katie out of the corner of my eye. She sat back in her chair, staring into the fire, her beer in hand, looking deep in thought.

She sighed after a while, in a moments silence. “Can you believe I’m divorced at twenty-eight?” she said, her voice more sad than bitter. She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “I thought by now I’d have things figured out. Instead, here I am, single again. And Brian’s off living his best life in fucking Fiji.”

Amy reached over and gave her arm a comforting squeeze. “You’re better off without him, Katie. Seriously.”

Katie smiled, but it didn’t last. “I know. It’s just… I didn’t think I’d be back here. Like, I’ve got to start all over again.”

I raised my beer. “To starting over,” I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Katie smirked and clinked her can against mine.

Soon enough, Mark and Bex started whispering and giggling, like they always did. It wasn’t long before they were making out, right there by the fire. It wasn’t a surprise. They’d been doing this for years, an on-again, off-again thing that everyone pretended not to notice.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Here we go again.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, you’d think by now they’d just make it official or something.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Katie said, a teasing glint back in her eyes.

As the night went on, the beers flowed, and the fire burned brighter against the deepening night sky. Someone put on music—Amy’s playlist, judging by the mix of pop and throwback hits. At some point, the girls got up, swaying to the music, their movements lit by the flickering firelight. It was one of those moments you just soak in—the dancing shadows, the sound of their laughter mixed with the crackling flames, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

Katie caught my eye as she spun around, her hair catching the light in this hypnotic way. There was something about seeing her like this, carefree and alive, that stirred something inside me. Something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.

But I pushed it down, like I always had. She was my friend, and that was how it had to stay.

The night wore on, and eventually, the music faded, the fire burned low, and we all retreated to our tents. Katie and I lingered by the fire a moment longer, the embers glowing softly between us. She glanced at me, her eyes still holding that tired, faraway look.

“Thanks for inviting me, Jack, I worried that Brian would end up with you guys and I’d be cut out” she said softly.

“Anytime, Katie. You’re always welcome here. Brian can fuck off, the prick”

With that, we both headed to our tents, the night settling into a comfortable, peaceful silence.

Katie:

The morning sun was just peeking through the trees when I crawled out of the tent, the cool air kissing my skin as I stretched. The others were already moving about; I could hear the crackle of the fire being stoked back to life, and the murmur of sleepy voices. It was early—too early—but part of me didn’t mind. 

I was trying to embrace this fresh start, but it wasn’t easy. I felt hollow sometimes, like there was a part of me I’d left behind in the wreckage of my marriage.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Jack’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was crouched by the fire, holding a mug of coffee out toward me.

I gave him a tired smile, accepting the mug gratefully. “Morning.”

He didn’t say much, but the warmth in his eyes as he handed me the cup made something inside me relax a little. Jack had always been like that—steadfast, a quiet presence when you needed it. After Brian, it was hard to know who I could trust, but Jack? He was different.

The rest of the group was bustling about, preparing for the day’s hike. Mark and Bex were already goofing around, tossing bits of trail mix at each other like children. Amy was stretching her lithe body, trying to shake off the stiffness from sleeping on the ground. She was the only one who truly seemed excited about this hike.

I sipped my coffee, feeling the warmth spread through me as I watched them. There was a certain peace that came from just being around them, even if I didn’t feel fully like myself yet.

“All right, gang!” Amy called, way too enthusiastic for this hour of the morning. “Who’s ready for the trek?”

Everyone groaned except for her, but we started packing our bags, loading up on water, snacks, and whatever else we’d need for the day. The trail we were heading for wasn’t easy, but that’s what I wanted. A challenge. A distraction.

We set out not long after breakfast, the five of us following the dirt path that wound through the thick forest. The air was fresh, the kind that fills your lungs with something crisp and alive. It felt good to move, to let my muscles work out the tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying.

As the morning went on, the trail got steeper. My legs burned, but I kept my head down, focusing on one step at a time. Everyone was chatting, but I stayed quiet, just listening, lost in my own thoughts.

Jack must’ve noticed, though, because after a while, he fell into step beside me.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low, not pushing.

I nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

He didn’t pry, just handed me a granola bar from his pocket. “Here. Keep your energy up.”

I accepted it, grateful for the distraction, and we kept walking. It was such a simple gesture, but it was these little things Jack did that I appreciated more than I could say. He didn’t try to fix anything or offer pointless advice. He just… knew when I needed something, without me having to say it.

The trail was relentless, twisting higher into the hills. By the time the sun was directly overhead, beating down on us with an unforgiving intensity, I was drenched in sweat, my legs aching from the constant climb. The others had scattered a bit—Mark and Bex were up ahead, probably racing to the next marker, and Amy had stopped to take pictures of some wildflowers.

I was lagging behind, lost in my thoughts again, when Jack slowed his pace to walk beside me.

“We’re almost there,” he said quietly. “But if you need to take a break…”

I shook my head, wiping the sweat from my brow. “No, I’m okay. I just… it’s harder than I thought.”

He gave me a look that was more understanding than I deserved. “Sometimes things are.”

I swallowed, his words hitting closer to home than I expected. This wasn’t just about the hike, and I knew he knew that. We walked in silence for a few more minutes, the sound of our boots crunching on the gravel the only thing filling the space between us.

When we finally reached the top of the ridge, the view was breathtaking. The world seemed to open up in front of us, mountains rolling out in every direction, trees stretching as far as the eye could see. The sky was wide and endless, a perfect, cloudless blue.

The others were already there, sitting on rocks, catching their breath. Mark and Bex were laughing about something, completely unaware of the world around them. Amy was perched on a ledge, taking in the view with her camera.

I sank onto the nearest rock, exhausted but exhilarated. It felt good to have made it. To have pushed through.

Jack sat down next to me, close but not too close. I could feel the warmth of his presence, though, a steady calm that seemed to settle around us.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” he said, his voice soft, just for me.

I turned to look at him, feeling something unfamiliar flutter in my chest. It wasn’t just about the hike, he just meant life, life was beautiful. Even if things felt bad now there was still a vast swath of beautiful life opening up before me. At least that’s what I took from what he said. Maybe he was just talking about the view. But, for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel so… broken. Like maybe I could be okay again.

“Thanks,” I whispered, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.

We stayed like that for a while, just sitting in the quiet, letting the peacefulness of the moment settle around us. Jack didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. I felt it in the way he looked at me, in the small gestures throughout the day, in the way he always seemed to know exactly what I needed without me having to ask.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel so alone.

Jack:

By the time we made it back to the campsite, I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. The hike had been brutal—long, steep, and unforgiving—but the view at the top had made it worth it. Katie, quieter than usual had stuck it out and there was something different about her today, something lighter, like she’d let go of a little of the weight she’d been carrying around for months. That alone made the whole trek worth it.

The sun was already dipping behind the trees when we arrived, casting the campsite in a warm, golden light. Mark immediately set to work cracking open beers while Bex and Amy, ever the self-appointed cooks, started on dinner.

“Who’s ready for the world’s best campfire burgers?” Bex called from her spot by the fire, flipping a patty dramatically.

Amy laughed, shaking her head. “World’s best? Bold claim, Bex.”

“Just wait until you taste it,” Bex shot back, grinning.

I smiled, taking a long swig from my beer, feeling the cool liquid rush through me. It was moments like these that reminded me why we always made time for these trips. Even with all the chaos of adult life pulling us in different directions, these weekends grounded us, brought us back together. The easy banter, the smell of the fire, the familiar faces—it felt like home.

I glanced over at Katie, who was sitting quietly by the fire, her legs stretched out in front of her. She had her head tilted back, watching the sky as it shifted from orange to deep purple, the first stars just starting to wink into view. She looked peaceful, more at ease than I’d seen her in a long time, and I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride. She’d been through hell this past year, and somehow, she was still standing.

“Here you go,” Bex said, handing me a plate with a burger. “Campfire gourmet, just for you.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning as I took a bite. To her credit, it wasn’t half bad.

As we ate, the usual flow of conversation filled the air. Then, just as the sun disappeared completely behind the horizon, a group of campers showed up in the distance, their voices carrying through the trees. They were on the other side of a small thicket, but close enough that we could see them unloading gear, setting up tents, and generally making a lot of noise.

Amy was the first to notice.