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I followed Amy's shapely ass through the bush as she bounced along happily on the track ahead of me. Both of us carried day-packs on our backs with lunch and a few other bits and pieces for the three-hour hike we were doing together. It had been her idea, driven, I think, by a need for some space and fresh air after going nearly stir-crazy from a month of full-on study in the lead-up to her end of year exams. It was the last year of her degree and we had gone out for dinner at our little local Indian restaurant the night before to celebrate when the exams came to an end. Both of us were decidedly mellow when we got home to our apartment.

Amy never ceased to amaze me. If I'd been asked at the outset of our relationship how long I expected it to last I probably would have said six months at the most. And yet, here we were four years later, still together. I was hopelessly in love with her, but a part of me was quietly preparing for her to announce that, now that she'd finished her degree, she'd had enough of hanging out with someone so much older than her. It had been the cause of some fairly black moods of late but I'd never plucked up the courage to say anything to her for fear of having it confirmed. So I was in a rather conflicted frame of mind as we settled down in the sun on a large flat-topped boulder next to a clear stream that rushed and bubbled past us. We'd left the track and crashed downhill a few hundred yards in search of a nice spot for our lunch, following the sound of the water. After we'd finished eating she shuffled over and sat between my legs with her back to me. I slid my ...

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