Touching in the Dark

The mountain air bit colder than Elena remembered when she stepped out of the rental car, gravel crunching under her heels as the last of the wedding guests drifted toward the main lodge. Three years. She had counted every one of them since the night Marcus had driven her to the airport and said nothing that mattered. Now he stood on the wide wooden porch of the remote guest cabin the venue had shoved them into after the rooms ran dry, still in his charcoal suit, tie loose, looking at her the way he used to when they were kids building forts and daring each other to jump creeks.

“Elena.” His voice scraped low. “Jesus. You look…”

“Like I drove six hours after a red-eye and need a drink,” she finished, forcing a smile that felt brittle. Her heart slammed anyway. He was broader through the shoulders, a faint scar new at his eyebrow, but the same dark eyes that had always seen too much. She had never stopped loving him. Not through the boyfriends who never quite fit, not through the nights she woke aching and angry at herself for still waiting.

Marcus carried the same secret weight. He had let her go because he thought she needed space to become whoever she was meant to be without him dragging her back to the small town they had both outgrown. Regret had sat in his chest like wet concrete ever since. Watching her walk toward him now, dress hugging the curve of her hips, hair loose and wind-tangled, he felt every lost minute.

Inside the cabin the single bedroom and narrow couch made the situation obvious. They laughed too loudly about it, shared the half-bottle of whiskey from the minibar, talked about his brother’s vows and the way the bride had cried. Night settled hard. The fire in the woodstove cracked. Elena curled on one end of the couch in an oversized sweater she had stolen from his bag years ago; Marcus sat close enough that their knees brushed every time either of them shifted.

The lights died without warning. Total black swallowed the room. Only the faint orange pulse of dying embers remained.