But I already know the answer. We got here because I was stupid enough to think he’d changed. But he didn’t. Or not enough, anyway.
“I’ll have my documentation completed by tonight,” I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
“What about Ella?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that almost sounds like concern. “The journey back to the city?—”
“Is not your problem. We’ll be fine. We’ve always been fine on our own.”
The words are meant to hurt, and I see them land.
“Georgia.” He’s staring at me like there’s more he wants to say, but his expression is unreadable, and I certainly won’t be forcing any words out of him.
“Is there anything else, Mr. Aarons? Any other instructions before I go?”
His jaw tightens. “No. That’s all.”
I turn and walk out of his tent, my spine straight, my head high.
I make it exactly ten steps before the tears start.
CHAPTER 21
CALVIN
They leave at dawn.
I watch from my tent as Georgia loads their bags into Ahmed’s SUV. Ella is fussy, crying for reasons only she and Georgia understand. The team has gathered to say goodbye—Omar hugging Georgia, Yasmin wiping her eyes, Khalid pressing something into Ella’s hands. A gift, probably. Everyone looks somber.
Good. They should be. Georgia is abandoning the project at its most critical moment. Walking away when we’re on the verge of something historic.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
The truth, the part I don’t want to examine? It’s messier.
I watch Georgia buckle Ella into her car seat. The toddler is crying in earnest now, calling for me.
“Cav-cav! Cav-cav!”
Each repetition is a knife between my ribs, and it takes all my strength to stand where I am, my arms at my sides. She’ll beokay. I know it. She’s so young, she’ll probably forget all about me within a few days.
Georgia says something I can’t hear from this distance, probably trying to soothe her. Ella’s crying intensifies.
I want to go out there. Say goodbye. At least to Ella. She doesn’t understand what’s happening, why I’ve disappeared, why we’re not building sandcastles today. But I stay in my tent. Because if I go out there, if I see Georgia’s face up close, if Ella reaches for me with those little hands, I might break. Might beg Georgia to stay. Might admit that I was wrong, that I’m terrified, that I don’t know how to need someone, but that I think I needher.
And I can’t do that. I can’t need her. Can’t need anyone. That’s how you get hurt. That’s how you give someone power over you.
My father taught me that. The only person you can count on is yourself. Everyone else will disappoint you eventually. Better to keep control, maintain distance, never give anyone the leverage to destroy you.
So, I stay in my tent like a coward and watch through the gap in the entrance as the SUV pulls away. The team disperses, subdued.
And I’m alone, just like I’m always most comfortable. Except I don’t feel comfortable. I feel hollow.
CHAPTER 22
CALVIN
The camp feels wrong without them.
I notice it immediately. The absence of Ella’s laughter, the missing sound of Georgia giving instructions to her team. Even the quality of the silence has changed, become heavier.
