When they got outside to the street, the pub's noise just an echo behind them, they both paused for a moment. She was unsure how to begin, and wondered if he was, too.
"This way?" Andrew extended a hand in the direction of the canals, eyebrows raised in question.
"Sure," she said, and they headed off, quiet for a few moments.
"You look wonderful," he said eventually.
"Thanks," she said, feeling a surge of awkwardness now they were alone. "You do, too."
Andrew smiled, but didn't say anything more.
The paths by the canal held only a scattered population—an older man walking his dog, a couple here and there, arms entwined, a few teens surely out past their curfew. She was suddenly overtaken by memories of them walking here in the same way, leaning in on each other, talking, laughing, or just being quiet together as they experienced the lapping of the water against the banks of the canal. She missed those times—she could not lie to herself about that.
"So," she said softly.
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