“Alone,” he confirms.
“What about the woman from earlier?”
Stop.
Talking.
“She’s no one,” he says simply. “Resort guest. Met her at the bar. She asked to watch the fireworks. I said yes because saying no seemed rude.”
“And then you dismissed her the second you saw me.” The words hang in the air before I realize I’ve said them out loud.
Shit.
His mouth quirks in the dark. Can’t tell if it’s almost a smile or what. “Yes.”
Just that.
Yes.
No elaboration.
No excuses.
“Ah,” I comment.
We fall back into silence.
But it’s not the comfortable kind.
It’s the loaded kind.
The kind where you’re both thinking a thousand things and saying none of them.
I study him in the dim light. He looks a little different than I remember. The sharp edges are still there, the careful control, but something underneath has shifted.
He looks... tired? Not physically tired. But tired in the way people get when they’ve been holding something heavy for too long.
“The island’s beautiful,” I finally say, because someone has to say something and apparently that someone is me.
“It is,” he replies.
This is excruciating.
I might as well ask next,How’s the weather been?
That would be appropriately awkward.
But then I finally find my backbone. “Why are you really here? On Eleuthera.”
He turns to look at me. “Same reason as you. The quiet. Avoiding people.”
I frown. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.”
I shake my head. “I’ve taken enough depositions to know when someone’s deflecting. Try again.”
He sighs in the dark, though it sounds amused. “Still the same Amara.”
