The path to the eastern shore wound through the densest part of the jungle, morning light filtering through the canopy in golden shafts that made everything look slightly unreal.
Lily walked beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed with every few steps. She'd brought her camera—of course she had—but it hung at her side, untouched. Like she understood this was something different.
Alex noticed, and filed it away with all the other small things he'd been cataloging about her. The way she'd learned to navigate the jungle floor without stumbling. How she asked questions and actually listened to the answers. The genuine curiosity that lived beneath her curated surface.
"So," she said, ducking under a low branch he held aside. "Are you going to tell me what we're checking on, or is this a surprise?"
"Sea turtles."
Her whole face transformed—eyes widening, lips parting in what looked like genuine delight. Not her camera-ready enthusiasm, but something rawer. Alex felt warmth spread through his chest at having caused that expression.
"Actual sea turtles? Like, in the wild?"
"There's a nesting site. I've been monitoring it since I arrived." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "The eggs should be close to hatching."
"Oh my god. Can we see them? When they hatch, I mean?"
If you're still here.
The thought landed like a stone in his gut.
"It's unpredictable," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "Could be tonight. Could be a week from now. Turtle mothers aren't known for their punctuality."
"How long has it been?"
"About fifty-four days. Incubation is typically fifty to sixty, depending on temperature." He found himself slipping into lecture mode, the familiar territory of facts and data. "The mothers return to the exact beach where they were born to lay their eggs. They navigate thousands of miles across open ocean using the earth's magnetic field, and decades later, they find the same stretch of sand."
Lily was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful in a way that made Alex want to know what she was thinking.
"So they always come back?"
Something caught in Alex's chest. A perfect opening. All he had to do was sayyes, some things are worth returning to—
"Always," he said instead. Just the one word, stripped of everything he wanted it to carry.
Lily glanced at him, and he had the uncomfortable sensation that she heard what he hadn't said. But she didn't push, didn't pry. Just kept walking beside him, her shoulder brushing his.
Coward, he thought.Complete and utter coward.
They emerged from the jungle onto a stretch of beach that still took Alex's breath away, even after weeks of visits. The sand was pale gold, untouched by footprints except for the tracks leading from the tree line—his own, from yesterday's check.
And something else.
"She came back," he murmured, crouching to examine the fresh disturbance near the dune line. Wide, sweeping tracks that he'd learned to recognize immediately. "Last night. The mother came to check on the nest."
Lily knelt beside him, her knee brushing his thigh. The contact sent warmth radiating up his leg, and he had to force himself to focus on the tracks instead of her proximity.
"Is that normal?"
"It's good. Means she's still in the area, still monitoring. Some mothers stay close until they're sure the eggs are developing properly." He traced the edge of the tracks without touching them. "It's remarkable, really. She crossed an ocean to be here. And she'll stay until she knows they have a chance."
Say it. Ask her to stay.
His jaw tightened, the words lodging somewhere between his heart and his mouth.
"The nest is just here," he said, gesturing toward a subtle depression in the sand. To an untrained eye, it would be invisible. To him, it was a promise waiting to be kept.
Lily moved closer, her camera still forgotten at her side. Alex watched her study the sand with genuine interest—not performing curiosity for an audience, but actually engaged.
