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“Please, Jules,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Can’t we start over?”

“After this?” She makes a face, tears filling her eyes again. “After everything that happened?”

“Why not?” I grab her hand. “I love you.”

“Don’t.” She pulls her hand back and starts walking again.

“I mean it. I love you. More than anything,” I say, refusing to give up.

She rubs her lips together, looking away as if she’s trying everything she can to block me out. But it won’t work. I won’t let it. I can’t lose her.

Not her.

She’s the only girl who ever came close to understanding me.

To loving me for who I am.

And now I fucked it all up.

“Jules,” I say. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” she spits.

“Not true,” I reply. She’s only saying that to hurt me the way I hurt her, and I get it. But that won’t make me love her any less.

“Please, can’t you just leave me be?” she begs, her voice changing in pitch multiple times.

She’s struggling, and I want to reach out, but she refuses me every time I try. It’s as though she’s shut herself down completely. Built up a barrier so high no one would ever be able to climb.

But I’m willing to try.

I won’t give up.

Not on her. Not on what we have.

Not ever.

Not even if I have to let her go …

If that’s what it takes to make her like me again, then so be it.

I bite my lip and say, “I’ll do anything for you. Anything you want. Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“I can’t …” She shakes her head.

“Do you want me to make a boat for you?” I say, which makes her look up with big eyes. “I’ll do it. If it means I can make things up to you.”

It’s quiet for a while, and the silence is killing me.

I want her to be happy … with me. Whatever the cost.

Even if it kills me, I don’t care.

“You … you’d do that for me?” she mumbles, gazing up at me with those beautiful eyes I want to drown in.

I let out a long-drawn-out sigh.

My heart already caved in long ago.

“Yes. If that’s what makes you happy,” I say, regretting it instantly.

“It will,” she answers. “So … what now?”

I nod, shivering from the sudden cold. “It’s getting dark, so we’d better go back to the hut first.”

“I’m not going back there with you,” she says, looking me up and down.

“Why not?”

She shrugs.

I raise a brow. “Afraid you’re going to get fucked in the ass again?” Her whole body starts to glow, and it makes me laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you rest …” I add.

“Good,” she says, folding her arms. “Because that won’t happen again.”

“Right. Because you’re supposed to hate me,” I say.

“Exactly.”

Her fake cold shoulder is cute.

Still, as we walk back through the jungle, the realization kicks in that I’ll have to give her what she wants … if I ever want to make her happy again.

And as the sun goes down, my body starts to feel colder and colder.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Accompanying Song: “Bad Dream” by Ruelle

Juliet

When we get back to the hut, I immediately go inside and gather my thoughts. I hope he doesn’t follow me. I have to think.

When the door slams open, I know my little wish didn’t work, and I sigh and sit down on the bed.

As he approaches, I hold up a hand and say, “Don’t.”

He mulls it over for a second and then turns around, walking outside with slumped shoulders.

I hate the look on his face because it makes me feel guilty … makes me want to throw shit around. But channeling my anger at this hut isn’t going to do us any good.

I have to think about it. Better yet, sleep on it.

So I lie down on the bed and let out a long-drawn-out sigh, shutting my eyes.

I don’t know how much time passes before I fall asleep or if I even do. I’m floating between half asleep and wide awake, and it’s the first night in a long while that I don’t dream.

When the sun rises, I know I’ve wasted another night.

I gaze around. The bed across the room hasn’t been slept in. I get up and sigh.

There’s no point in trying to sleep more if I can’t shut off my mind. I have to do something. I have to act.

I should go look for wood we can use for a boat instead.

Now that he’s agreed to help me, I have to make use of the time I have before he changes his mind again.

That’s it.

I grab a cup and fill it with water, gulping it down in one go before I walk outside and face him. He’s throwing wood on the fire and poking it when I pass him.

“Hey,” he says.

I was hoping he wouldn’t talk because it only makes things more difficult.

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