"Morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep.
"Morning yourself." She forced brightness into her tone, the same brightness that had gotten her through a thousand awkward brand meetings and uncomfortable interviews. "Sleep okay?"
"Better than okay." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before rolling onto his back, one arm still beneath her. "What time is it?"
"Early. The sun's barely up."
"Good. I need to finish cataloging the eastern specimens today." He was already shifting into work mode, she could feel it—the subtle withdrawal, the mental checklist clicking into place. "Should only take a few hours."
Lily traced idle patterns on his chest, her heart hammering.Say something. Ask me what happens next. Give me literally anything to hold onto.
"So I was thinking," she said, keeping her voice casual, "about my schedule when I get back. It's going to be insane—I've got like a million emails to catch up on, and my manager's probably having a breakdown about the radio silence."
"Mm." Alex's fingers drew absent circles on her hip. "You'll be busy."
"Yeah. But, you know, notthatbusy." She glanced up at him, willing him to take the hint. “California’s pretty accessible from... well, anywhere, really. Lots of flights."
The circles on herhip stilled.
For a breathless moment, she thought he was going to say it. His jaw tightened, and something flickered in his blue eyes—want, maybe, or fear, or some complicated cocktail of both.
"You'll have a lot to process when you get home," he said finally. "The footage, the editing. Getting back into your routine."
That's not what I meant and you know it.
But Lily had spent a lifetime reading rooms, and she could read this one clearly. He wasn't going to ask. Wasn't going to offer. Wasn't going to be brave enough to suggest that this thing between them could survive beyond the island's shores.
"Right," she said, her voice only slightly hollow. "Lots to process."
She extracted herself from his arms, suddenly desperate for distance. "I'm going to grab a shower before you monopolize all the hot water.”
"Lily—"
"It's fine." She flashed him a smile that felt like broken glass in her mouth. "Really. Go do your science things. I'll entertain myself."
She didn't look back as she headed for the bathroom, afraid of what her face might reveal.
The next two days passed in a blur of bittersweet moments that Lily would replay for weeks afterward.
They finished editing the video together, huddled over her phone while Alex offered surprisingly helpful suggestions about pacing and emphasis. When it was done—really, truly done—they'd both stared at the final product in silence.
"It's good," Alex had said quietly. "It's really good, Lily."
"We make a decent team," she'd replied, and the words had hung between them, heavy with everything they weren't saying.
They took one last dive on the reef, Alex pointing out species she'd learned to recognize over the past two weeks. The staghorn coral, the blennies, the parrotfish that pooped sand. She filmed some of it, but mostly she just watched him—this impossible man in his element, passionate and alive and completely oblivious to the fact that he was breaking her heart in slow motion.
But the more physically close they got, the more emotionally distant Alex seemed to become.
Lily caught him watching her sometimes—while she was editing, or making coffee, or simply existing in his space. His expression in those moments was almost painful, like he was trying to memorize her the same way she was memorizing him.
Then say something, she wanted to scream.If you feel it too, just say it.
He never did.
The morning of day two—one day left, the clock in her head supplied helpfully—Lily found herself alone in the cabin while Alex did his final specimen work.
She stood in front of the small, spotted mirror that hung above the sink, studying her reflection with the critical eye she usually reserved for sponsored content.
