She hesitated, then nodded. "Five minutes."
I gestured toward a more secluded section of beach, away from the growing crowd. She followed, keeping a careful distance between us.
When we were out of earshot, I turned to face her. The fading twilight softened her features, her eyes catching the light of the first stars appearing overhead. I nearly lost my train of thought looking at her.
"I'm sorry," I said simply.
She blinked, clearly not expecting this opening. "For what, exactly?"
"For hurting you. Six months ago. Yesterday. Any time in between." I ran a hand through my hair, searching for the right words. "That was never my intention, Dee. And I don't want to make things worse for you now."
Her arms remained crossed, a barrier between us. "So what do you want?"
"If space is what you need, I'll give it to you. I'll back off completely." The words felt like rocks in my throat, but I forced them out anyway. "I just want you to be happy. That's the truth. I care about you too much to keep pushing if it's making you miserable."
Something flickered in her expression—surprise, maybe uncertainty. "You'd do that? Just... walk away again?"
"If that's what you want." I held her gaze. "Is it?"
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. "It's Tyler," she said, her voice tight.
The tension between us ratcheted up another notch. She looked at me, conflict written across her face.
"Go ahead," I said. "Take it."
She hesitated, then swiped to answer. "Hey, Ty."
I turned slightly, giving her the illusion of privacy while remaining close enough to hear her side of the conversation.
"Yeah, I'm good... Just enjoying the vacation... No, not working too much, I promise... The resort? It's beautiful, you'd love it..." She paused, and I could feel her eyes on me. "No, no problems at all."
Another pause, longer this time. "Actually, there is someone here you know..." She took a deep breath. "Jace is running the adventure program."
I couldn't hear Tyler's response, but Delaney's nervous laugh told me enough. "Yeah, small world, right?... No, it's fine. We're all adults... Yes, I'll tell him you said hi."
She hung up, sliding the phone back into her pocket. "Tyler says hi."
"I gathered." I studied her face. "You didn't tell him about us."
"There is no us," she said automatically, but without conviction.
"Isn't there?" I challenged gently.
She looked away. "My five minutes are up. Don't you have a stargazing event to run?"
I checked my watch. She was right—our little talk had eaten into the scheduled start time. "This conversation isn't over, Dee."
"It never seems to be," she muttered, but followed me back to the group.
I slipped into guide mode, welcoming everyone and explaining the evening's plan. As I pointed out the first emerging stars, I was acutely aware of Delaney settling into a lounge chair at the edge of the group, separate from her friends.
For the next hour, I led the group through a tour of the night sky—pointing out constellations, sharing mythology, letting people take turns at the telescope to view Saturn's rings and Jupiter's moons. The guests were enthusiastic, asking questions and exclaiming over the celestial sights.
Throughout it all, Delaney remained quiet, but I could feel her watching—not just the stars, but me. When the officialprogram ended and people began drifting back toward the lodge, she stayed, gaze fixed on the heavens.
I busied myself packing up equipment, giving other guests time to clear out. Ruth caught my eye as she collected empty mugs, giving me a knowing look before tactfully ushering the last lingerers toward the path.
Finally, only Delaney remained, still reclined in her lounge chair. I approached cautiously, carrying two steaming mugs.