Page 49 of Love Story

Ben nodded, thoughtful.“Makes sense, I guess.Still, it’s a shame you don’t visit.There’s so much of your family history here.”

I smiled at that.“You’re probably the first person in years who’s thought about history when they look at this grove.”

He laughed; the sound warm in the quiet space.“I doubt that.Clara and Samuel P.thought about it.”He motioned to the trees.“The letters mention initials in a tree.Do you think they’re still here?”

The memory stirred as soon as he mentioned it, and I began walking, my boots crunching over twigs and patches of moss.“Yeah.They’re here.I remember seeing them when I was a kid.“

Ben followed me, stepping carefully to avoid the mud, and I stopped at the base of a massive old maple, its trunk wide enough to take at least two of us to wrap our arms around it.I reached out, running my fingers over the bark, searching for the spot I knew was there.My fingers found the grooves, faint but still legible, the weathered heart, and the letters inside it—S + C.

“Your great-great-granddad carved that for your great-great-gran,” Ben murmured, his fingers brushing over the carvingagain.His voice was filled with that same quiet awe he’d carried since we entered the grove.

Shivers ran down my spine.I wasn’t sure if it was the crisp air or his words, but they struck me somewhere deep.I stared at the carving, the faint, smooth edges of the heart deep in the rough bark.

I’d seen it before—plenty of times as a kid—but hearing it from Ben made it feel as if I were seeing it for the first time.My ancestor had made those marks, pouring something real and raw into this tree, something that had endured for decades.A declaration of love carved into a living thing.It wasn’t just history; it was my history.

I swallowed, my throat tight, and managed, “That’s… kinda crazy.To think about them standing right here, carving that.They had no idea I’d be here, what, a hundred years later, looking at it.”

Ben’s gaze flicked to me, and his smile grew warmer.“It’s more than crazy—it’s romantic.They didn’t care what anyone thought.This was their place, their haven.”His hand lingered on the carving before dropping to his side.“It’s like they left a piece of themselves here.”

I nodded, still staring at the initials.“Yeah.They did.”

A memory hit me, clear as day, and I tugged Ben to the next tree over.The bark was rough under my fingers as I pointed to a second set of initials carved into the trunk—S R H C.

“Sam, Ryan, Conor, Haider,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips.“I’d forgotten we did this.”

Ben tilted his head, studying the letters.“Who carved it?”

“Ryan, technically,” I said, smiling.“Well, he tried.Haider traced the letters for him, and then Ryan dug them out with the bluntest pocketknife I’ve ever seen.Took him forever, but it was a special reason.”

“What was the reason?”Ben asked.

I removed my gloves and ran my fingers over the letters, feeling the rough grooves against my palm.“It was the day before I came out to my parents.We were all sitting under the trees, discussing everything and nothing.”I released a breath, the memory warming me in a way the winter sun couldn’t.“I thought I might lose my family when I told them, and Haider, in all his dramatic flair, insisted we had to carve it into the tree to make it official that we’d be friends forever.”

“But you didn’t lose your family?”

“No, not at all.They said they loved me for who I was.”I went quiet then, recalling the moment I’d told them.“I didn’t lose them.”

Ben’s gaze lingered on the initials, then shifted to me.“How old were you?”

“I want to say thirteen.Fourteen, maybe?”I shrugged.

Ben traced the carved letters.“I like your friends.”

“They like you.”I wanted to say more about my feelings, but the words were tangled in my head.“Ben?”I said, my voice drawing his attention back to me.

“Hmm?”He turned.

I shook my head, a smile pulling at my lips.“Nothing.Just… glad you came out here.”

He grinned, brushing his hands against his coat.“Me too.”Then he turned back to the carving, his gaze lingering as if he were memorizing every detail.“This place… it’s special.You’re lucky to have it.”

“I’m so lucky to have you here with me,” I said, the words spilling out and making him smile.

“Will you kiss me?”Ben asked, holding out a hand.

“Always.”

Our kisses were heated, and moans and whimpers filled the air, muffled by our lips and the crisp afternoon breeze.

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