Caleb and I keep seeing each other.
Casually. Carefully. In a way that never feels like it is asking for more than I am willing to give, and never feels like it is waiting for me to catch up to something I am not ready for.
There is no pressure. No expectations layered beneath small gestures. We meet for coffee between shifts, sometimes standing instead of sitting because we both have places to be. We walk together after training some nights, boots crunching softly on gravel, the conversation easy and unforced. Sometimes we eat together, sharing food without ceremony. Sometimes we just sit, shoulders not quite touching, watching the pack move around us like a familiar tide.
“Do you ever just watch them?” Caleb asks once, nodding toward the cluster of wolves gathered near the fire pit.
