Everything is a Choice

Chapter 32

Previously...

When Much is out of sight, I turn back to the camp. Guy is crouching by our rapidly dying campfire, warming his hands over the glowing embers. He frowns and then picks up a handful of kindling, throwing it onto the fire. As the flames start to lick at the dry wood, he stands and fetches some larger logs from our well-provisioned log pile.

Tears fill my eyes at the thought of Much, alone in the forest, savagely swinging an axe, collecting wood we don't need.

Guy turns his head at the sound of the axe biting into wood and sees I am alone. He beckons me over.

Slowly, I walk towards him, the first small tendrils of regret snaking up from my egg, apple and carrot-filled belly and curling around my heart.

Chapter 32

We are standing side by side, staring at the now roaring fire.

"They'll come around," Guy says, lightly touching the back of my ringed hand. "Give them time."

I can feel my tears gathering, wet on my lashes. I have messed up everything and I'm not even sure why.

Another woody clunk echoes through the forest as Much takes out his hurt and frustration on the trunk of a tree. Several heartbeats pass and then the axe bites again.

"He's not going to gather much firewood at that rate," Guy says.

Keeping my eyes fixed on the fire's flames, trying hard not to blink, I reward his attempt at levity with a forced smile.

Guy laces his fire-warmed fingers in between my cold ones and breathes out a contented sigh when I don't pull away. Our fingers curl together.

"You won't send me away, will you?" he asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I know what your friends mean to you, and I think if you had to choose, you would choose them over me."

"I told you," I say, tugging on our clasped hands as if to emphasise the point. "I have no intention of choosing sides. You have to accept them and they have to accept you."

"And if they don't?" Guy asks, making it clear he is more than willing to accede to my wishes if it will make me happy.

"I don't know," I tell him truthfully.

The axe rings out once again, nearer to us this time. Much utters a disconsolate, "What are you made of, iron?"

"Do you want to go and talk to him?" Guy asks.

"I already did."

"And?"

"He thinks I'm making a mistake."

"And what do you think?"

I twist towards Guy, take his other hand in mine. "I think this is the first time I've felt something was right in a long while. It feels like...like..." I shake my head, unable to find the word I'm looking for.

"Home?" Guy suggests.

I look up and meet his eyes, dark blue in the grey winter's afternoon.

"Yes, home."

Guy gently but insistently pulls me into his chest. Then, stealing a glance towards the trees and seeing no sign of Much, he kisses me; softly at first, but then with an increasing ferocity that takes my breath away, that leaves me wishing the world would disappear and there were only him and me and we could give in to our desires.