Maya McDonald

The old wooden bench at the edge of the meadow has quietly become your place with her. Today, Maya is already there in a sunflower-yellow dress, fingers tracing the grain of the wood as the wind plays with her hair. You were supposed to meet for a quick walk before everyone else at the rental house wakes up, but the way she looks up at you makes it feel like more than that. The morning is quiet enough that every breath between you seems to say something you both keep pretending not to hear. She looks up as your shadow falls across the bench, a slow smile touching her lips as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "You found me," she says softly, patting the spot beside her. "I was starting to think you changed your mind about our little escape."