“Right side or left?”He nodded at the bed.They hadn’t shared a double bed often enough to have assigned definite sides.
 
 “Which do you want?”
 
 “I don’t mind as long as you’re in it with me.”
 
 Like he’d missed her.
 
 Heck, maybe he had.
 
 He finally put down her bag on a nearby chair, then he was coming towards her, arms open wide, expression all reconciliatory.
 
 She was outside of herself as he put his arms around her.Not really present in her body, more like a dust mote circulating in the air beside them.
 
 “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking over the last few days.We shouldn’t let one mistake wreck us.”He rested his chin on the top of her head.“I’m not going to pretend I haven’t been mad at you.I’ve been fucking furious, but it’d be a mistake to call quits on us over one dumb decision.We’re good together, Jo-Jo.Much too good to let it fall apart.You and me, we complement one another.”
 
 Did they?Well, in so much as they took on opposite, but not oppositional roles.
 
 “Say something.You’re alarming me being this quiet.You’re never this quiet.You can’t really be mad at me for being hurt.”
 
 “I’m not mad at you.”Not for that.
 
 The fact they were still hugging made it easier to lie than if he’d been looking her in the face.
 
 “You’re not?That’s good.We need to put this behind us.What do you say we spend tonight together just the two of us?We could go out for a meal, or order in.Maybe do something fun.What do you think?What would you like to do?”
 
 “Are you coming with us or not?”Balin stuck his head around the door.On seeing them locked together in an embrace, he gave her a thumbs up and a grin, and mouthed, “Stability restored.”Then, “So?”
 
 “Don’t think so, mate,” Nash replied.“Think Jo-Jo and I are going to do stuff, just the two of us.”
 
 “’kay.Right.”
 
 “Are they not coming?”she heard Lee ask Balin.He sounded surprised.
 
 “Sloppy make up time.Let’s go, Quilly, you’re coming too.They don’t need any eavesdropping gooseberries.”
 
 The three of them left, ushering in another uncomfortable silence the groaning joints of the lodge failed to fill.
 
 Nash eventually stepped back, breaking their close embrace in favour of a looser hold on one another.He clasped her hands.Raised her knuckles to her lips.“What do you want to do?Dinner?Go out, order in?”
 
 “I’m not really hungry yet, and I don’t really want to leave the cats.”It’d be wrong to dump them in a new place and run out the door.They needed time to settle.She needed time to settle.She hadn’t set up their litter tray or anything yet.She wandered back into the living area, intent on that task.It gave her hands something to focus on.Less chance of them relocating random objects that way.
 
 Nash followed along.Even helped squeeze food out of a pouch and distracted Flugwhump from eating it all before Mel and Zar had even seen it by tossing his catnip-infused toy mice around.
 
 They acquired drinks.Maybe resorting to booze wasn’t the best plan, but the craft beers were waiting for them there on the table, alongside an artisanal loaf, brown cheese, and chocolates.
 
 And drinking at least filled the void.
 
 After days of stewing and imagined conversations—okay, confrontations—she didn’t know what to say.Shouldn’t they be confessing their sins and seeking apologies?Rehashing the events wasn’t something she was eager to do, not considering the guilt she was carrying over where it had led her, but simultaneously, not talking it through felt like moving forwards with grenades in her pockets, and who knew when one of them would accidentally snag the pin.
 
 “Balin said you were sick.”
 
 Nash tapped the bottle against his lips, then lowered it to the table.“Yeah, I was.”
 
 “Because of what...what we did?”
 
 He lifted the bottle, took another long draw.Then wiped his hand over his lips.“I forgive you, okay.Let’s just move on.”
 
 “Are you saying we should just forget—”