Chapter 53 Wren
Wren
Fishing is harder than it looks.
That’s the first thing I learn.
The second thing I learn—
Boone thinks it’s hilarious.
“You’re holding the rod like it’s going to explode,” he says.
“It might.”
“It’s a fishing pole, Wren.”
“Yes, but I’ve spent most of my life around electronics.”
“This is… not electronics.”
I glare at him.
“That was not helpful.”
Boone chuckles and steps closer behind me on the dock.
The wood creaks softly beneath our feet as the water stretches out like glass in the fading evening light.
“Alright,” he says patiently.
“Let’s try this again.”
His hands gently adjust mine on the fishing rod.
“Loosen your grip.”
“Like this?”
“Exactly.”
The warmth of his hands over mine sends a small spark through my chest.
Which is extremely inconvenient for focusing on fishing.
“Now,” Boone continues, “when you cast…”
“…you let the line do the work.”
“I thought you said fishing required patience.”
“It does.”
“Then why are you standing this close?”
He grins.
“To supervise.”
“That sounds suspicious.”
“It’s professional instruction.”
I roll my eyes.
“Sure it is.”
“Alright,” Boone says.
“Cast.”
I swing the rod forward.
The line sails out across the water.
And immediately lands in the reeds ten feet to the left.
Boone bursts out laughing.
“That was not the lake.”
“It was close to the lake.”
“It was the shoreline.”
I cross my arms.
“This is harder than stopping a cascading infrastructure collapse.”
“That’s because fish are smarter than computer networks.”
“That seems unlikely.”
Boone gently takes the rod from my hands and frees the line from the reeds.
Then he hands it back.
“Try again.”
The sun is beginning to sink toward the horizon.
The sky turning warm shades of gold and orange.
The lake reflects the light like a mirror.
I take a breath and cast again.
This time—
The line lands perfectly on the water.
Boone nods approvingly.
“See?”
“I did it.”
“You did.”
I beam slightly.
Then the rod suddenly jerks in my hands.
“What was that?”
“That’s a fish.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“What do I do?”
“Don’t panic.”
“I’m panicking.”
“Reel.”
I start reeling the line in too fast.
Boone laughs again.
“Slow down!”
“I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“That’s obvious.”
The rod bends again.
I squeak.
“Boone!”
“Keep reeling!”
Finally the fish breaks the surface of the water.
A small silver flash twisting in the air.
Moments later Boone lifts it onto the dock.
I stare at it.
“That’s it?”
“You caught a fish.”
“It’s tiny.”
“It’s your first one.”
“I expected something bigger.”
Boone laughs again.
“Most people are just happy they caught anything.”
I kneel beside the fish.
“Well…”
“…it’s still impressive.”
Boone crouches beside me.
“You’re talking to the fish.”
“I’m congratulating it.”
“That’s not normal.”
“Neither is rewriting Sentinel’s architecture in four minutes.”
He nods.
“Fair point.”
The sun dips lower across the lake.
The sky glowing soft orange behind him.
For a moment—
Neither of us speaks.
Then Boone gently releases the fish back into the water.
“There you go.”
I watch the ripples fade.
“That was actually fun.”
“Fishing tends to be.”
I lean back on my hands on the dock.
“You might be converting me to normal life.”
Boone sits beside me.
“That’s the plan.”
The evening air cools slightly as the sun disappears completely.
Fireflies begin flickering across the tall grass along the shoreline.
I smile softly.
“You never mentioned it when we were together before.”
My grandfather left it to me five years ago.”
“This place feels like a different world.
“Sometimes it is.”
“Do you come here when things get complicated?”
“Yes.”
“And now you brought me.”
“Yes.”
I glance at him.
“You trust me with your quiet place.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
He thinks for a moment.
Then shrugs slightly.
“Because I don’t want to be here without you.”
My breath catches.
The lake grows darker as the stars begin appearing overhead.
For a moment—
Everything feels perfectly still.
Then Boone gently reaches for my hand.
The warmth of his fingers sends that same electric pulse through my chest again.
“You know,” he says quietly.
“You’re doing pretty well at normal life.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“What’s next?”
“Well…”
He leans slightly closer.
“…there’s another part of normal life we haven’t tested since we got here.”
I tilt my head.
“What part is that?”
“This.”
And he kisses me again.
Slow.
Warm.
Unhurried.
The kind of kiss that feels like it belongs exactly here—
On the quiet dock.
Under a sky full of stars.
With the water gently moving beside us.
No alarms.
No countdown clocks.
Just the two of us.
For tonight—
The world is finally quiet.