Forrest had never been much of a hiker. It wasn’t that Cape Neddick hadn’t offered much by way of hiking, but he’d always preferred its coastal strolls over its woodland trails, and he rarely ever strayed far from the lighthouse anyway. After he’d graduated high school, that had been a full time job for him, one he sorely missed now. The bustle of New York was too overwhelming sometimes, and he often daydreamed about what it might be like to scoop Robin up into his arms and spirit her back to the solitude of Maine.
Then, he would look at his daughter, bright-eyed and smiling and a stage-five clinger, always needing to be holding onto someone, and he realised there was no way he could raise her in such a lonely, solitary life, just because it was what he preferred. Look at what that lifestyle had done to him. It had made him awkward and unsociable. He didn’t want to raise his daughter in his mirror image just because living as a lighthouse keeper was more palatable for him.
All that being said, he’d readily agreed to going on a hike with Daff, if only so he could swap the city smog for fresher air. There’d be little in the way of sea brine and the familiar crash of waves, but the smell of fresh pine was already far better than letting his lungs get choked up by car fumes.
He was a little breathless as they made the climb, not as used to rambling up hills as she was, so he was grateful when she eventually came to a halt - only for his eyebrows to fly upwards in worry when she slipped.
“Whoa, you good?” he asked, placing a steadying hand on her hip. He let it linger there for a few seconds once he was sure that she wasn’t going to lose her fight with gravity. Then, he slowly retracted it, eyes worriedly flitting over her face.
She seemed eager to not look at him, so he didn’t press and ask if she was alright again. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her.
Instead, he lowered himself down onto her jacket, their legs pressed together as they stretched them outwards. Forrest couldn’t help but smile at how comically long his legs were compared to hers and tipped his boots from side to side.
“This is nice,” he said eventually, bracing his hands behind him so he could lean back and appreciate the view. It was no Maine, but it was something. Something a lot prettier than Manhattan.
“It feels good to get away even just for a few hours,” he admitted, before biting his bottom lip. He felt guilty for even saying that.