Chapter 9 Connor
CONNOR
“The air smells cold.” It’s the first thing that crosses my mind the second we step into the trailhead. It’s wide and steep, with a very well-kept gravel path that leads into the mountain. I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I hear a few mumbled agreements from the group behind me.
Everything is crisp and a little damp, like the sun hasn’t had a chance to stop by and dry everything up from the morning mist. I’m not usually a nature guy, but even I can admit this place is stupidly beautiful.
The trees are large and towering, and the paths are winding with no end in sight.
Just a trail up the mountain to what I think could be something at the top or maybe towards the side.
We’ve barely made it fifty feet, and already Banks is complaining. “This incline is disrespectful,” he mutters, taking exaggerated steps up the path.
“You’ve walked twenty feet,” Elle says, not even looking back.
She looks spry and athletic in her earth-toned athleisure.
Athena used to wear those matching sets all the time on the weekends, even if she wasn’t going to work out.
I never understood why she did it, but it must be a thing, because every woman in the group is donning similar outfits—except Manuela, who’s in a soft knit sweater and comfy sneakers that definitely don’t look like they’re apt for hiking or even any sort of sporting activity.
But somehow, she looks like she belongs here more than any of them. “You’ll survive.”
“I’m not built for this terrain,” he insists, huffing and puffing by his girlfriend. Nicole rolls her eyes but smiles at him nonetheless, like she’s completely charmed by his foolishness. “I’m a man of the city.”
“You’re from Connecticut,” Cash throws over his shoulder.
I catch Manuela’s smirk beside me. She’s walking behind Elle and a few steps ahead of me, her sunglasses pushed up on her head, hair tied in a loose bun.
Her small backpack is tiny—maybe purely decorative?
—and I’m guessing it holds a protein bar and a phone.
Still, she’s holding her own on the trail, and every so often she glances over her shoulder like she’s checking to see if I’m still back here.
I am.
We pass through a narrow stretch of trees that opens up to a ridge overlooking the valley.
The tip of a lake glitters in the distance, and somewhere below, I can hear bells on cows or goats or whatever charming livestock lives here.
It’s the kind of view people use as screensavers or desktop wallpapers. Completely unreal.
“I promise, you guys, this looked shorter on the map,” Elle says, pausing to check her phone. “The wedding coordinator said it was only a three-kilometer walk, so I assumed that should be quick, right?”
“It is short,” Sterling says, not even winded. “You people are soft.”
Cash claps him on the shoulder. “Easy, man. You’re, like, ninety percent protein powder.”
“Elle, honey,” Jack says, dropping his voice just enough for those of us nearby to hear. “Are we sure about this?”
“Babe,” she replies, flipping her long hair over one shoulder and speeding up the hill. “Follow me.”
We keep walking.
The farther up the mountain we go, the more sunlight appears and the warmer it feels.
Within the trees it feels damp and slightly chilly.
Eventually, the trail levels off, leading to a clearing with big flat rocks and a few wooden benches that look like they’ve seen better decades.
Right behind it, a large yellow building shines in the sun—its mostly outdoor space wraps around it, and there are a few patrons already sitting on the side that faces the valley.
“See?” She turns to face her fiancé, who scoffs at her but pulls her in for a kiss. “Ye of little faith.”
“Where is the waterfall?” Hannah says from behind us.
She’s moving in circles on the clearing and squinting her eyes in every which way.
She’s always been my favorite of the guys’ girlfriends—no nonsense and doesn’t take herself too seriously.
I see her smile and roll her eyes, then walk in the direction of her boyfriend. “Babe.”
“Wait a minute,” Elle says, pulling out her phone again and scrolling furiously through it. “Are we in the wrong place?”
A beat of silence.
Then Jack groans. “No, babe. No, no, no.”
“Okay, but…” Elle starts, already doing that thing where she talks fast when she’s spiraling. “I swear this is what the email said. It had a photo of the train station and the trailhead. There were rocks and trees and a freaking waterfall. This is all of those things.”
“Is it though?” Hannah mutters, pointing to the sad little trickle of water sliding down a mossy rock wall about thirty feet away. “Because that looks like someone left the tap on uphill.”
Cash holds up his phone and zooms in. “Yeah, no, this is a seasonal fall. Like, it only shows up after major rainfall or snow melt.”
“Why does Switzerland even have seasonal waterfalls?” Elle snaps, waving her arms around like she’s been personally victimized by an entire nation.
Hannah and Amelia are doubled over laughing now, hands braced on her knee. “I’m sorry,” Amelia wheezes, “but we climbed a hill for two hours for a glorified leak?”
Jack looks at Elle with a soft smile, like he finds the whole thing charming. “Still builds character.”
She glares at him. “Your character is about to be tested.”
“Why don’t we just go to the restaurant and get lunch, babe?” Jack says, hugging his bride and slightly pulling her in the direction of the building a hundred yards away. “You get grumpy when you’re hungry.”
Manuela snorts and smiles, sliding her sunglasses on her face. We walk the rest of the way there, Banks complaining about how he’s dehydrated and needs to sit down and eat or he will simply perish.
The restaurant—which happens to be a hotel at the top of this specific peak—ends up having a private dining area on the side that resembles a traditional Swiss chalet.
Wooden beams, native flowers in window boxes, tables set outside with checkered cloths like it’s trying to mirror a Pinterest board.
But the view is unreal. Mountains in every direction, clean air, and enough sun to make the whole thing a reward for surviving the hike.
We get seated at a long table by the floor-to-ceiling windows on the side, which give us unobstructed views of the valley below.
Everyone starts peeling off layers and setting phones down and debating what kind of cheese they want melted on bread or potatoes.
Sterling is already pointing at the menu like it’s a negotiation.
“C’mon, babe, if I get the rosti and you get the fondue, we can—"
“I’m not sharing with you,” Hannah says, stealing his menu. “You hoard the good bites.”
Jack and Elle are locked in their bubble at the far end of the table, heads leaned together, whispering about the wine list and the overlap with the ones they selected for their upcoming nuptials.
Cash is trying to order in French, which would be impressive if we weren’t in the German-speaking part of Switzerland.
And across from me, Manuela is running her fingers through her hair. She’s flushed from the hike, freckles visible now in the sunlight, and there’s a quiet glow to her I don’t remember seeing before.
It hits me out of nowhere.
That feeling like she belongs right here. Not in the surrounded by finance bros in Europe kind of way, but just—here. Existing. Effortlessly next to me.
She catches me staring and raises a brow. “What?”
I shrug. “Just surprised you made it up the hill in those sneakers.”
She snorts. “Please. I’m from a mountain town. I was pacing myself. Not my fault the rest of you went full Everest on the first incline.”
“Banks cried,” I whisper.
“Twice,” she adds with a grin.
A waitress comes by with bottles of water and a few charcuterie boards and sets them on the table.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, leaning toward her. “I’m positively dehydrated. Thought I was going to have to start drinking from the stream.”
She rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth twitch. There’s something in the air between us now. Lighter than last night but still charged. Like we’re both aware of it, just not naming it.
Everyone orders—plates of traditional potatoes, grilled sausages, soups I can’t pronounce. The food takes a while, but no one is in a rush, especially since the day is warming up and the slight bite in the air is practically gone, even at this altitude.
I glance at my watch and notice that it’s almost two.
“Remind me what time the train leaves?” I ask, mostly to Elle.
“Five sharp,” she calls down the table. “If you miss it, you’re staying here with the cows and the tiny waterfall.”