Eliza

I am a creature of habit.

Every morning, at exactly six A.M., I go for a run. It doesn't matter where I am or what the terrain is like or what the weather is like. Rain or shine, mud or rocks, city or forest, I will still go for a run before I'm due at the shop for work. Even on days like today, when I have a pounding headache and feel as if I've been punched in the stomach several times, I will still run.

Lacing up my runners, I tell James that I'll be back in an hour or so. He's still half asleep, so he only mumbles against the pillow in response. I smile, taking in the view of him against the white sheets. His arms are folded beneath the pillow and his head is turned to the side. His brown hair is an unruly disaster and there are angry-looking scratch marks across his left shoulder blade.

Slightly embarrassed by the sight and memory of what we did last night, I quickly exit the bedroom and head downstairs. No one is awake yet, which is a good thing. I need a morning alone to sort out some thoughts that have been running through my mind for the past twenty-four hours. I still can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that Leon is here.

Outside, I'm welcomed by the warm sun and clear blue sky, the smell of the alpines as fresh and crisp as ever. I once dreamt of moving away from Whistler and exploring the rest of Canada, maybe even moving to a different country. But Whistler is the most beautiful place in Canada – I could never leave. I'd miss the trails and mountains too much. I'd miss Tenille and my job.

On the southern side of the property, I head for the trail that leads down to the trail system of Lost Lake, my headphones in and the music blaring. Once I enter the forest, my body begins to relax. The forest has always played a big part in calming me down when I'm feeling anxious or stressed. There's just something about the smell and the way the trees stand tall, unwavering and strong even against the most violent of winds.

After Leon moved away, I often explored the forests of Whistler. There is a labyrinth of trails around Lost Lake and Whistler Mountain, as well as all the provincial parks along the Sea-to-Sky Highway. The terrain and vegetation would change in each area, but the feeling the forest gave me always stayed the same. When I was exploring the wilderness, I could be one with myself, I could breathe again. It was hard to lose my best friend and my lover after knowing him for so long. Leon had always been such a big part of my life – even when we were talking over FaceTime and text messages. But after he didn't return my calls, after he lied, I became a jam sandwich without the peanut butter. The apple pie without vanilla ice cream. Whenever I had a joke or a secret to share or a memory I wanted to reminisce about, he was gone. Leon left a hole in my heart – one that still exists to this day. As much as I hate him, I'm relieved to see him again. During the two years he went MIA, I could only assume the worst with him. Even when I called Nathan, Leon's dad, he was no help. He told me Leon was having a rough time and needed some time to figure things out. I had wanted, so badly, to reach out and help him, but he would ignore my messages and calls.

I never wanted to give up on Leon, but he gave me no choice. You can only let someone drag you down for so long before you realize you're wasting your time.

Living life without Leon was difficult to adapt to and although the forest reminded me of him, of the time we spent together, I still explored it. I still healed. It was both a blessing and a curse to remember him, to miss him, to be left wondering what ever happened to him.

Thirty minutes have passed by the time I reach the edge of Lost Lake. Although it's early in the morning, there are already tourists swimming and splashing around in the water, yelping at the cold bite of it. I shudder and turn on my heel, continuing with my run. I may have grown up with this lake, but I never swam in it. There were too many weeds and too many fish. I'd lose my mind if my feet or legs ever touched one.

For the remainder of the run, I allow my feet to guide me where they want. I'm already dripping with sweat and my breaths are short and strained, but I keep going. I like the burn. I like the way my body begs me to stop and take a breath. It makes me feel alive.

I run and run until I come to a familiar spot. I pause and remove my headphones.

In the middle of the trail is a stump that's been coasted with moss and lichen. It's jagged and old and there's a compacted dirt pile about a foot away from it. I'd recognize the thing anywhere. It's where Leon broke two of his ribs because of a bet with the infamous basketball player, Mateo O'Connor. He was two years older than us and the biggest asshole I'd ever met in my life – though, that's debatable now. He had bet that Leon couldn't make the double jump over the stump and dirt pile. Of course, Leon took the dare – he was always passionate about his bikes and he certainly wasn't going to lose his to someone like Mateo O'Connor. I was terrified for Leon, scared that he'd fail and severely injure himself.

But he made it. Perfectly.

It was when he landed that things went array. With the combination of speed and height, Leon had to keep going down the trail. He shouted at me to run after him so we could get away from Mateo and his cronies. I followed him, but by the time I reached him further down the trail, he'd lost control of the bike and fallen down a small embankment. He broke two ribs and sprained his wrist that day. But all that mattered to him was that he still had his bike and the fact that he had proven that dickhead wrong.

I didn't understand the minds of men back then and I still don't to this day.

Leaning down, I run my fingers over the knotted, damp wood. I then cast my gaze upon the trail ahead of me. If I had stopped coming here, the trail would have become overgrown and made it impossible for anyone to find Saint-Sangster Rock. But I kept coming here. My trips here mainly occurred during the time Leon was refusing to return my calls. I spent hours here, crying and wondering why, after all these years, he'd lie to me. Why he didn't want to talk to me. His ignorance was a knife and my heart was the victim.

Inhaling deeply, I stick my headphones back in and make my way down the path, taking a sharp left when I come to a fork in the path. This is where the trail is slightly overgrown – it always has been and Leon and I tried to keep it that way when we were kids. It's probably a bad idea for me to pay a visit to Saint-Sangster Rock – the last time I was there, I ripped up the stonecrop and nearly broke my toe kicking the base of the rock. In my defence, I was in a terrible mood and needed a way to release that anger without hurting anyone around me. I had also been thinking about Leon a lot that day. Although I moved on and found James, I still wondered what happened to Leon some days. And that day was one of them. I was furious and frustrated, and when everything was over, I cried and cried until I was numb. At the end of it all, I thought any Leon-associated thoughts were extinct.

But that was the biggest lie I've ever told myself.

Now that he's here, I can't seem to get him out of my head.

When I come to the edge of the embankment, I freeze in place and remove my headphones. I can't see the rock or the creek yet, but I can see the glint of someone's bike in the distance. I can also feel the presence of someone, making me feel as though I'm being watched.

Creeping forward, I pull back a few branches so I can get a better view of the area. Sure enough, someone is standing beside the rock, staring down at the mess of rotting plant corpses I left behind. At first, I can't tell who it is. But when the stranger straightens his posture and begins to scratch the back of their head, I know exactly who it is. He always used to do that when he was confused or trying to solve a mystery.

It's Leon – the mountain bike should have been an obvious giveaway.

Leaning forward, I feel and hear a branch snap beneath my foot. From the distance, I see Leon jump and turn around, surveying the area. I draw in a sharp breath and take an involuntary step back. It seems as though the shock of seeing him after two years of him being MIA still hasn't worn off. My heart begins to beat rapidly. I wonder if he remembers how we used to sit on the rock and watch the creek flow. How we used to talk about our future together. I wonder if he remembers the last night we spent together, how he ripped that condom open with his teeth and made me come undone more than once.

But, more importantly, I wonder if he saw me.

"I'm not going to bite, Liz," I hear him call out. There's a hint of humour in his deep voice. "You can come down."

I close my eyes and groan. Shit. He did see me.

Knowing there's no getting out of this, I step out of the bushes and make my way down the small but steep incline, avoiding rocks and knotted roots. I also note the way Leon watches me. It's as if he's analyzing me, trying to figure me out. It makes me uncomfortable and very aware of every move I make. So aware that I stumble over a rock and land flat on my butt, filling my shorts with dirt and gravel and tiny twigs. It's the most uncomfortable feeling in the world.

"Shit!" Leon exclaims.

He rushes over to me and grabs my hand, helping me to my feet. He begins to brush away some of the debris that's adhered to my shirt. I shiver when his fingertips make contact with the bare skin of my collarbone. "Are you okay, Liz?"

I don't understand why I react to him the way I do. He gave up on us, which led me to give up on him. He left me behind and lied to me. It's his fault that I moved on; I didn't want to bear the weight of utter disappointment anymore. I wanted to heal my broken heart and live my life. Which is exactly what I did. I stopped thinking about Leon every day. I met James and fell in love. I said yes when he proposed to me. And now I'm marrying him.

I look down at our conjoined hands. Despite the bittersweet memories, this is my place now. He doesn't deserve to just walk back in here. Frustrated, I tear my hand away from his and step back, crossing my arms. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demand.

The smile on his face falters. "I-I was just mountain biking. I – "

"And what?" I snap. "There are kilometres of land to explore, Saint-Laurent. Why did you have to come here?"

Cocking his head to the side, he raises an eyebrow and smirks at me. He knows I'm pissed off at him and he finds it amusing. I harden my gaze. Just because he finds it funny that I only label him with his last name when I have a bone to pick with him, doesn't mean this is a laughing matter. Right now, he should be scared of me. Not amused.

"Sorry," he replies. "I didn't realize it was a private venue. Seeing as how we found this place together."

I don't like the emphasis he puts on that word – even if it is true. Grinding my teeth, I push past him and head for the rock.

"Where are you going?" he calls.

"To make sure I ripped up all the stonecrop," I retort. As I'm walking, I kick at a rock and send it flying in the opposite direction. Every word that comes out of his mouth is beginning to piss me off.

"I figured that was you," he muses, jogging to catch up to me.

I glance at him, allowing myself a moment to really look him over. The longer I stare at him, the more I begin to realize that he's studying me, too. Sweat is glistening on his forehead, dampening some of his dirty-blond hair. I try very hard to not focus on his physique, but my eyes are instantly drawn to his snug shirt and shorts. When did his shoulders become so broad? When did his arms build so much muscle? I drag my eyes back up to his handsome face, momentarily meeting his alluring gaze. But I look away as quickly as I looked at them. Out of everything, his eyes are the hardest to look at.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

I blink rapidly, my heart tugging in several different directions. I wasn't expecting to hear an apology from him. Ever. Even so, it doesn't make up for what he did to me. "And what, Leon, exactly, are you sorry for?"

Leon shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, and then looks at me through his lashes. "Everything, Liz."

I roll my eyes and step away from him. I'm tired of trying to solve mindless puzzles. People who avoid directly addressing the topic are my biggest pet peeve. Stop trying to beat around the bush and just cut the whole damn thing down! If he's not going to be specific, then I'm not going to waste my time socializing with him. "Listen to me," I say. My voice is hollow and cold. "You're wasting your time here. If you're looking for some kind of redemption, you're not going to get it. I'm not denying that we share a past, Leon, but I'm getting married. I moved on and fell in love with James. You had your chance, but you fucked up."

There's a well-deserved look of hurt in his eyes as he cringes, but he quickly recovers by shrugging. "I'm here for the wedding, Liz. Why else would I come?"

I narrow my eyes at him. He's playing some kind of game. A game that I don't want any part in. A person like Leon doesn't simply pop up after two years of being MIA because he wants to support your wedding. No, he's here for something else and he wants to have a conversation with me about it.

It's too bad that that ship sailed a long, long time ago.

I may sound overly dramatic and immature, but I don't give a shit. I don't think Leon realizes how much he hurt me by lying to me and then never returning my phone calls.

"But," Leon continues, setting forward. I stare up at him, holding my breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. With his knuckle, he traces the angle of my cheekbone. "Just because I'm here to support you doesn't mean I like it." He drops his hand back to his side, his smirk broadening. "And maybe, just maybe, I'm lying to you again, Liz. There's the possibility I'm not simply here for champagne and wedding vows. Maybe I have more to say, but maybe I don't."

As the gears in my mind work to solve Leon's puzzling words, he walks past me and gathers up his helmet and elbow pads. I turn to watch him as he climbs up onto his mountain bike and gets ready to leave. When he's ready to go, he glances up at me and winks. Then, he's gone.

I reach up to rub my temples. Has he always been this indifferent? Arrogant? Confusing? Charming? The conversation we just had makes me think he was trying to defuse me. He wanted a reaction. He wanted something.

I throw my shoulders back. No. I refuse to fall victim to his games. In less than a month, I'm going to be married and leaving Whistler for my honeymoon. I care about James and I know he cares about me. More than Leon ever did. I know I can trust James to never go MIA on me and then suddenly pop up in my life thinking everything is all sunshine and daisies.

I shake my head.

No.

Those innocent, unique eyes aren't going to fool me. Leon lost his chance.

And I would go after him and tell him that if my shorts and underwear weren't full of dirt.