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“How deep does it get?” he asks, looking out at the blue water.

“Deep enough to swim.”

His eyes light up. “Hell yes.”

We strip down to our boxers, and Marcus beats me to the water, diving in with a whoop that echoes across the lake. I follow more cautiously, gasping at the cold as I wade in up to my waist.

“It’s freezing!” he shouts when he emerges from the water.

“Well, duh, it’s a mountain lake in June.” I laugh in response as he swims toward me, water sliding off his shoulders. When he reaches me, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me deeper, and I yelp as the cold water hits my chest.

“I hate you,” I gasp, but I’m laughing.

“No you don’t.” He kisses me, his lips are cold and taste like lake water, and I kiss him back because he’s right. I don’t hate him. I love him so much it terrifies me sometimes.

He dives under and surfaces a few feet away, water streaming off his blond hair as he shakes his head, and I’m struck by how at home he looks here.

“That’s enough for me,” I laugh and make my way back to shore.

I’m shivering by the time I reach our things, so I dig through my backpack and pull out the first thing I can find—an old gray hoodie, soft and faded.

Marcus drops beside me and looks at what I’m wearing.

“Is that mine?”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t believe you still have it.”

“Of course I still have it, sweetheart. I wore it nearly every night last year. Even after it stopped smelling like you.”

He immediately pulls me against him, not caring that we’re both wet.

“There, it’ll smell like me again now,” he whispers.

“No, it’ll probably smell like lake now.” I laugh. “But I have all your clothes to steal whenever I want so it’s all good,” I tease, though he’s well aware I take his clothes often.

We lean back and let the sun hit our skin. I fit against him perfectly, my head on his shoulder, and for a while, we just sit in comfortable silence, watching the light dance across the water.

“How’d your project turn out? You sent it to the client yesterday, right?” I ask.

“Yes, and they loved it at first glance. I’m sure they’ll have feedback, but it felt so good. It sounds weird but it almost brings me back to when I was first making homemade skateboarding videos. This job is so much more fun and offers way more creative freedom. I can’t believe how much my last job was draining me.”

“I’m so proud of you, and happy for you.”

It’s only been a few months here, but Marcus seems lighter. We spend every weekend outside in the mountains or exploring the city. He’s been continuing his virtual therapy with Dr. Patel and taking his medication, but it’s more than that. He seems freer here. It’s such a beautiful thing to witness.

“Thank you for showing me this place. It’s better than I imagined. But then again, most things are better than I imagined back then.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I definitely never thought I’d be this happy.”

I have to swallow hard before I can answer.

I think about how far we’ve come. From that first night in the High Top parking lot, desperate and anonymous and sure it was a one-time thing. To the hotel rooms and stolen hours and years of distance, both of us wanting so badly to believe in a future together but too scared to say it out loud. To Chicago and the Bean. To the silence that nearly cost us everything. To the hotel room in Bloomington where we finally laid it all bare.

To our cross-country road trip nearly three months ago, which was mostly boring until Montana. To his first few weeks here, when he was still fighting the urge to retreat into himself whenever things got hard, and I held him through it. Reminded him that loving someone isn’t about them being easy. It’s about choosing them, again and again, even when it’s hard.

Especially when it’s hard.

And I’ll always choose him.