Page 111 of The Lost Guardian

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Morning came far too soon, and Santiago’s eyelids peeled open as the soft light of the sun penetrated through the tent walls. He was disoriented for a moment, his body sated and heart full, even before his brain registered the reason. Then he saw Ali, still asleep in his arms, and the evening flooded back to memory.

The two of them on their sides, Ali’s back pressed into Santiago’s chest. At some point in the night, they had opened her sleeping bag to use as a blanket. He pulled it down far enough to kiss her bare shoulder, just above a tattoo of a condor.

Ali shifted against him, making a happy noise as she teetered between sleep and waking. Santiago smiled and traced the puma tattoo farther down. He was almost at the snake on her biceps when Ali stiffened.

She bolted upright, gasping, and pulled their makeshift blanket toward her.

Santiago startled at both her frantic movement and the sudden rush of cold air that washed over his fully naked body. He shifted, affording himself as much modesty as possible, then raised his hands toward Ali.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s morning,” Ali gasped, a wild expression in her eyes. She scanned the now-illuminated tent and wrapped the sleeping bag tightly around her. “How long have you been awake?” she demanded.

“Uh, not long,” Santiago responded, confused and hurt by the coldness in her voice. “Are you all right?”

“What? Yes, of course,” she snapped.

She didn’t sound all right, and Santiago instinctively reached for her, then felt a sharp pang in his stomach when she recoiled from him.

“Could you give me some privacy, please?” Ali asked, motioning toward the tent door.

Santiago’s heart sank. This wasn’t the morning after he’d imagined. Nor was this the comfortable, lighthearted Ali he’d held in the dark. Something had changed, and Santiago was pretty sure he knew what it was.

She was regretting their night together.

“Of course,” he mumbled.

Avoiding her gaze, he located his discarded clothing and slipped on his pants without even bothering to put on his underwear first. He grabbed them and left as quickly as he could. The zipping of the tent door as he left was louder than a door slam.

In the bright light of morning, nauseating embarrassment racked Santiago’s body. He felt so unbelievably foolish. Just a few hours ago, he’d made the startling discovery that perhaps he loved Ali. And while he didn’t expect her to reciprocate the feeling, it was abundantly clear that not only did she not care for him in the same way, but that she viewed their night together as a mistake.

It more than humbled him. It broke him.

Santiago wanted to run. To escape. To leave before he was forced to see the look of disappointment in Ali’s eyes. If they had been back in civilization, he would have. He would have darted into an Uber home instead of facing the inevitable rejection to come.

Back in the real world, this never would have happened to begin with, he told himself. The only reason she wanted you was because she almost died yesterday, and her feelings got tangled up with adrenaline and relief. You can’t expect her to feel the same way in the cold light of day. You should have known this would happen.

He couldn’t run. Santiago knew that. But he didn’t have to make the situation any more awkward than it was—he wouldn’t act hurt or wounded. He would continue on, as if his organs weren’t crumbling into dust.

Determined, Santiago ducked into his tent to change properly. By the time he stepped out again, he was as composed as he’d ever be.

Ali was outside as well, and already halfway finished packing her tent. She must have heard his exit but didn’t spare him a glance. Santiago saw by the set of her shoulders that she was tense, and the remaining shards of his heart tore up his chest.

Though they worked side by side, the pair couldn’t have been further apart. Not even separated by the entire expanse of the Andes.

The quiet moments that they’d found themselves in lately had grown so comfortable, companionable. Now, the silence stifled worse than the humidity.

Once packed, Santiago forced himself to look at Ali. Or, in her general direction, at least.

“We should, uh,” he stammered. “Should probably continue toward that star.”

Ali simply nodded.

There was no cloud forest to contend with this time, and they were able to cover much more ground that morning. Of course, Santiago couldn’t be sure it was the right ground. They were still headed in the correct direction, but who was to say they hadn’t missed the next clue when they fell halfway down a cliff?

It was early enough that the air was still crisp, the sun lazy and languid in the sky. There was enough space between the brush for them to walk through without needing to cut down bushes or vines. Their path was neither too steep nor too taxing, gently rising and falling with the curve of the mountain. It was—all in all—a very beautiful day.