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We moved in unison again, connecting in a brief hug.

It’d hardly been more than a day since breakfast yesterday, but I already missed these moments of connection. Still, I made sure to let him go as soon as he pulled back.

The contact brought up memories of touching more than just his arms.

“Thank you for the scones,” he said as we separated. “They were perfect with my morning coffee.”

“The maple tarts were wonderful too.” I ached to kiss him. “Tommy and Milo were very smooth with their delivery. They could have a future as a spy team.”

Several people glanced our way with poorly concealed interest. “Want to get something to go? Take a walk?”

Jenny took our orders with a bright smile but didn’t comment beyond asking if we wanted our usual drinks as well. She’d had a front-row seat to us getting to this point in the day.

While we waited, Andre and I stood near the pickup counter, maintaining a careful distance.

“How was camp today?” he asked, his voice quiet enough that only I could hear.

“Good. This group has exceeded where we expected them to be at the end of the first week.” I was thrilled for each of them. “This was already an advanced session, so it’s thrilling. Liam and I are talking this afternoon about how much more we can throw at them.”

“That’s great. A testament to the coaching.” Andre’s smile set off flutters in my chest.

“I fear there’s not enough of us. Kyle’s staying this week instead of going home for a few days. Miles and Cole are coming back early too so we can have more support.”

“Sounds like your camp is growing like the festival did.”

He’d nailed it with that comparison.

Our order came up, and we headed out into the pleasant summer day. With Maple Street quieter, it was easy to stroll.

“The festival seemed like a tremendous success,” I said as we headed out of the cafe. “How’s the feedback been?”

Andre’s face lit up. “Incredible. I met with Wade, Olivia, and Mickey earlier. The live stream numbers were beyond expectations with viewers from as far away as Australia and Germany. The vendors set up in Maplewood City Park were thrilled with the traffic and sales. We don’t have all the info from the stores in town, but so far it seems all positive.”

“That’s fantastic.” I smiled, enjoying his obvious satisfaction with what the team had accomplished.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed talking to him about normal, everyday things.

We crossed the street into the park, and he stopped at a shaded bench. “Shall we sit?”

We settled, sitting on opposite ends of the bench. The remains of the festival surrounded us. Tent patterns were still visible in the grass. The tree we planted was still in its pot, a dolly next to it signaling that someone would soon move it for replanting.

Andre set his cup and the bag with his lunch down in the space between us and turned to face me. “Let me just start with my apology.” His voice was steady but full of emotion. “The way I treated you at the parade… I fell back into old patterns, and I hurt you so much. I don’t know how to apologize enough.”

The sincerity in his words touched me. “Thank you.” I sat my food next to his. “I know the festival was important, but…” I gathered my thoughts. “When you shut me down from explaining, it brought back all those old feelings. Of not being heard. Not being understood. Of my feelings being disregarded.”

“God, Ethan.” Andre’s face crumpled. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do, but I didn’t stop myself in the moment either. When I found out that you’d helped Kirk through his anxiety… I should’ve known you were doing something important.”

“It’s not all on you,” I admitted. “I should’ve let you know what was up. All I could focus on was someone who needed help. I know all too well the impact of anxiety.”

Andre reached for my hand, hesitating before taking it. His touch was grounding. “You’re amazing with young people, you know that? The way you connect with them, help them… It’s beautiful to watch.”

I squeezed his hand, grateful for the connection. “I had good role models. Mrs. Goddard, my moms, Liam—they all showed me what it means to really see someone who’s struggling.”

“I’ve been thinking about how we can avoid doing this again.” Andre’s hand flexed on top of mine. “Remember I told you I’ve been seeing a therapist?”

I nodded encouragingly.

“She’s helped me understand where that habit comes from and how to manage it better.” He looked away for a moment before bringing his gaze back to mine. “Clearly it continues to bere a work in progress. Anyway, I wondered… would you consider coming to a session with me? Talk about our history and how we can build something healthy?”