Page 58 of Beautifully Wild

“Eden.” He stares at her, hoping she understands the extent of his words. “I want to be with you more thananything,” Samuel’s voice cracks on the last word.

She reaches out, brushes her fingers across his. It’s a gentle brushing of the tips of their hands.

He takes hers and squeezes it. “I wish there was another way.”

31

Eden

Morningsunshinebreaksthroughthe canopy. I open my eyes and see the white and yellow circles of sunlight as the rays reflect off leaves and dewy fronds.

Damn this heat. I was hot and bothered all night despite the absence of the sun. With a foggy head, I stand and stumble to the river holding my back.

Stretching my arms over my head, I attempt to iron out the kinks. It’s going to take more than a couple of nights to get used to the hammock. And to be honest, it could do with a wash. I groan, thinking about bubbles and water. What I’d do now for a bath or shower. Even the river looks appealing, although I’m not yet brave enough to strip down and wash, especially here on a river beach and out in the open. Besides, I’m not convinced the river is safe, even with the children I saw yesterday frolicking in the water. I glance upstream. Slashes of red and purple color the Eastern sky. The current is slow along this tributary compared to the Churun River and more so the Carrao River to which it flows. I smile, thinking how Bree would be impressed with my geography knowledge of the area.

A wave of sadness hits me thinking about my friends. What are they doing? I glance down to my feet in the river sand and imagine it to be the crisp white sand of Margarita Island. What do they think of me? I close my eyes at the realization of my erratic behavior.

If only I knew.

It’s why Samuel didn’t want me to come after him. I understand that now. If only I weren’t as stubborn as my father. I let out a long sigh, the disappointment still with me.

Asoo will be coming downstream from the north. I’m not sure when and only know to listen for the motor.

I wander back and sit on a log to slip on my socks and shoes. The fire is almost out, so I carefully lay another log over the top. I jump back when it hisses at me. Now hungry, I meander through the vines—with more shoots sprouting in the two days I’ve been here—to pick as much passion fruit I can hold in the material of my tank top. After collecting what I can reach, I head back and sit by the fire.

I pierce each piece with my nail. Good god, my hands are filthy. Thankfully, I don’t have to touch the flesh I eat. With each mouthful, I stare into the trees. Will he come and visit me this morning? Or will he allow me to leave without a goodbye? I’m so exhausted, I don’t have the energy to be optimistic. Samuel explained everything as best he could last night. I don’t have a choice and have to accept he has a commitment to uphold. It is what it is. There’s no happy ending. I just wish I had the patience and waited for him to come find me in a year or so. I could’ve kept working with my father, go back to my boring, dull life, and wait for the day when Samuel walks back into my life.

I blow out the air between my cheeks. “Yeah, right,” I mutter. I bite into the gooey flesh of the passion fruit and keep eating it until each piece is halved and the skin is lying beside the fire.

I gather my belongings and roll the mosquito net into a ball and stuff it inside my pack. The plastic to cover my bag is rolled up in a ball in the corner. I unravel it and wrap it around my pack. In the distance, there’s a muffled sound. I gasp realizing it’s a motor, and I haven’t spoken to Samuel.

I head down to the beach and wait. My breaths come fast, and I look to the trees. I want to run in there and call out to him.

The curiara putts around the corner. My shoulders slump, and I drop my pack onto the sand. I never got the kiss I wanted when I found him, and I sure as hell won’t be getting a kiss to say goodbye. It hits me how he’s going to let me leave because we both know I never belonged here.

“Eden,” Samuel’s voice comes from behind.

What? He’s here?

At the far end of the beach, he strides toward me. I smile, knowing he’s come to say goodbye. I want to run to him but know I can’t. Oddly, he’s wearing cargo cut-offs and a t-shirt.

He gives me the same smile that reminds me of how he used to be in Ilhéus. “Good morning. Have you eaten?” He hands me a banana. Steely eyes hold mine captive.

“Morning,” I say quickly. “And thank you.” I take in his clothes and backpack. “What are you doing?”

He waves out to Asoo. “Taking you to Canaima.”

“I don’t need a chaperone.” I want to kick myself because, more than anything, I want time with him, but if we’re going to move on without each other, prolonging the pain isn’t going to help me.

“I know. I want to monitor the questions Asoo asks.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it. A muscle ticks along his jaw.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“Then why are you really coming?” I’m not sure he hears me with the motor now revving closer.

He points to direct Asoo to the shore and then gives me a sideways glance. “We both know why.”

---