Sally's POV
The interior of this tent bears no resemblance to the painful memory etched in my mind from our teenage years. That night, we had huddled together in cramped quarters on unforgiving ground, surrounded by musty dampness and the metallic scent of old canvas. We were both so inexperienced then, fumbling through emotions neither of us understood, and when dawn broke, he had vanished without a word.
Tonight, everything feels different. Soft bedding cascades across a proper mattress, delicate lanterns cast golden light from overhead, and mason jars filled with wildflowers dot every surface. The air carries hints of pine and cedar mixed with something distinctly masculine that belongs only to Karl.
He touches his phone screen before setting it aside on a makeshift nightstand. Familiar melodies begin to drift through the space, a song that takes me back to simpler times when we thought forever was guaranteed. Every detail has been carefully planned to create something magical.
