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“Tell me.”

“The clothes aren’t for you.”

He glances at what I’m wearing. “I didn’t think they were.”

“Neither is the haircut.”

“I didn’t think that either.”

I slow near one of the benches overlooking the creek, then stop. Kell stops with me.

“Being with you didn’t make me want different clothes or a different haircut. It made me realize I was allowed to ask whether I still wanted the same things I’d been choosing for years.”

I look down at my boots, then back at him. “I like my haircut. I like the clothes I’ve been buying. I like trying things I would’ve dismissed six months ago because they weren’t me.”

“Maybe they were you.”

That stops me.

“Maybe.” I smile a little. “Maybe I just hadn’t checked in with myself for a while.”

His hand brushes mine as he shifts beside me. The warm woven joints of his fingers catch lightly against mine before we separate. Neither of us reaches for the other. Somehow, not acting on the contact makes it feel more intimate.

“I like who I am when I’m with you,” I say. “Not because I become somebody else. Because I stop assuming I already know who I’m supposed to be.”

For once, Kell doesn’t have an immediate answer. I look toward the creek, giving him a second, and when I turn back, some of the tension around his eyes has eased.

“You do that for me too,” he says.

“What?”

“Make me think about what I want.”

I blink. “You seem to have that covered.”

“Now.” His smile is small. “When I woke up, everything was new. You were the first person who let me find out what I liked without telling me what I should like.”

For a second, all I can do is look at him.

“That’s ironic,” I say.

“Yes.”

“Considering how hard I eventually tried to decide what you should be.”

“Yes.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You could soften that a little.”

“I thought we were being honest.”

“We are. I’m just reserving the right to complain about it.” That gets the laugh I wanted. When we start walking again, the space between us feels easier than it did when we arrived.

We walk for another few yards before Kell looks over at me. “So what does back mean?”

Monday, the question would’ve frightened me. Today, it doesn’t.

“I’m still figuring that out,” I say. “But I know I don’t want to go back to exactly what we had before.”