The willow was already swaying when she got there.
Averie skidded to a stop at the edge of the field, her chest rising and falling like she'd run a mile - because she had, in more ways than one.
And he was there.
Wes stood with his back to her, facing the water. His posture was tense, like he wasn't sure he should've come. Like he was waiting to decide if he'd stay.
"You came," Averie breathed, stepping forward.
He turned slowly, and the second their eyes met, everything else fell away. The trees, the pond, the threats - they didn't matter. Not in this moment.
"I almost didn't," Wes said, voice low.
"I wouldn't have blamed you," she replied, her tone honest, open. "But I'm not going
to pretend anymore. Not for them."
Wes stepped toward her, his jaw tight. "You shouldn't have texted me. Not after a threat like that."
"I had to," Averie said, closing the gap between them. "You're not just some fling I can forget."
His hands flexed at his sides, and she knew he was holding himself back.
"You're making this harder than it already is," Wes muttered.
"Good," she whispered.
Wes closed the distance in a heartbeat, cupping her face in both hands and pulling her into a kiss that felt like everything they'd held back was finally breaking free.
Their lips met beneath the swaying willow branches, urgent and unfiltered. The kiss wasn't soft - it was craved. All heat and need and the ache of two people who knew the world was trying to pull them apart.
He backed her against the tree with a groan, his mouth never leaving hers, hands sliding down her waist like he couldn't touch enough fast enough. Her fingers found his shirt, then his hair, pulling him closer, matching his rhythm like her heart already knew the beat.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Averie said softly, "What aren't you telling me?"
Wes looked away.
"Wes," she pressed, fingers on his chest. "Talk to me."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Your dad wasn't wrong about one thing."
Averie's heart skipped. "What do you mean?"
He swallowed hard. "Our families have more history than we thought. My grandfather and your grandma… it wasn't just gossip."
She stared at him. "They were… together?"
Wes nodded. "Real love. From what I've heard, anyway. But your grandfather - he found out. And made sure it never went public."
Averie felt the air thin around her. "What did he do?"
Wes hesitated.
"What did he do?" she repeated, more sharply this time.
Wes met her eyes. "He paid my grandfather off to leave town. And then made your grandma out to be… unstable."
Averie staggered back a step like the wind had been knocked out of her. She remembered it now - whispers about her grandmother's breakdown. The sudden disappearance. Her father never spoke of it.
"It was all a lie," she murmured. "She wasn't crazy. She was broken."
"Because of them," Wes said bitterly.
Silence wrapped around them again, this time heavy and real.
Averie looked up, eyes burning. "Then maybe this isn't just about us."
Wes frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we finish what they couldn't," she said. "I'm not letting our parents' shame write our story."
Wes reached out, brushing a hand down her cheek. "You're really not afraid?"
Averie gave a trembling smile. "I'm terrified."
Before he could answer, a sharp sound cracked through the woods - a camera shutter.
They spun toward it - but saw no one.
Wes grabbed her hand. "Go. Now."
They ran.