After the heavy stillness of the Guided Intimacy Workshop, the group was led—quietly, almost reverently—out of the wooden pavilion and toward a secluded clearing beneath a wide, white canopy strung between cedar trees. A circle of low cushions awaited them, each pair spaced apart, facing one another. The earth beneath was soft, dappled with the filtered sunlight of late afternoon. The wind whispered gently through the trees, just enough to make leaves flicker and shadows shift like breath.
Katherine walked a step behind Carolina. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, though the facilitator’s earlier words still pulsed in her head. She had agreed to come. She had agreed to sit through this.
Kingsley was already seated cross-legged on one of the round cushions, staring down at his
