Or maybe that was just the awareness humming between them—that electric consciousness of each other that had intensified after the underwater scare. Alex showered first while Lily reviewed the footage on her camera's tiny screen, then they switched. By the time she emerged, hair dripping, wearing another of his shirts—she'd officiallycommandeered his entire wardrobe and he hadn't complained once—he'd set up her small laptop at the table.
"I backed up your files," he said without looking up. "The memory card was almost full."
"Thanks." She slid into the chair beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Neither moved away.
They worked in companionable silence, scrubbing through footage, marking the best clips. The cabin filled with the soft sounds of their collaboration—the click of the mouse, the scratch of Alex's pen as he noted timestamps, the occasional murmured comment about lighting or angle or the miraculous behavior of coral polyps.
This is good, Lily realized.This quiet domesticity. This partnership.
This is what I never knew I wanted.
The coral spawning sequence was stunning—ethereal and otherworldly in a way that even her usual superlatives felt inadequate to describe. Tiny clouds of life drifting through crystal water, catching light like underwater galaxies being born.
"This is incredible," she murmured, watching the clip play for the third time. "People need to see this."
"That's the goal." Alex's voice was softer than usual, almost reverent. "Make them care. Make them understand what we're trying to protect."
We.The word landed in her chest and stayed there, warm and terrifying.
She turned to look at him, and found him already watching her. The afternoon light caught the blue of his eyes, turning them almost silver. There was something in his expression she couldn't quite read—vulnerability, maybe. Or hope. Or the particular torture of wanting something you're not sure you can have.
She knew that expression. She was wearing it too.
"We should talk about what happens when the boat comes," she said, before she could lose her nerve.
Alex's jaw tightened. "I thought we agreed?—"
"I know what we agreed. But I’ve changed my mind. I’m being practical.”
“Since when are you practical?"
"Since I started caring about something that matters." She kept her voice steady through sheer force of will. "I go back to L.A. You go... where? Back to Boston? Another island somewhere?"
The silence stretched, filled with the weight of everything they'd been avoiding.
"There's a research position," he said finally, the words coming slowly. "In Hawaii. I was offered it before I came here. I haven't given them an answer yet."
Lily's stomach dropped.
Hawaii. He had a job offer in Hawaii. A plan. A future. One he'd apparently been considering this whole time without mentioning it.
One that had nothing to do with her.
"Hawaii," she repeated, and she heard the flatness in her own voice. "That's... that's great. Amazing opportunity."
"It's complicated. The funding structure is?—"
"No, it sounds perfect for you." She pulled her hand back from his, reaching for her coffee mug instead. Something to hold. Something to do with her hands besides reach for him. "Remote location. Important research. Minimal human contact. Right up your alley."
Alex frowned. "Lily?—"
"When do you haveto decide?"
"End of the month."
So he'd known. This whole time—while they were falling into bed together, while she was catching feelings she had no business catching—he'd had an escape route mapped out. A next chapter that didn't include a single page with her name on it.
What did you expect?the voice in her head demanded.A marriage proposal? You've known him two weeks.
