Chapter 41
Aeron
I loved adventures—the riskier, the better—especially when it meant capturing something breath-taking behind my lens.
I'd pushed myself to extremes: freezing cold, scorching heat, even brushing close to death out in the wild.
But right now, I'd made a promise to the girl leaning on my shoulder—I’d follow every word she said, no exceptions.
If making it home safely meant sharing another moment like this, then risk-free was exactly how I'd stay.
“Who’s this dumbo taking selfies in front of lava?” Astrid squinted at the screen. “He’s sticking his tongue out like it’s a theme park. One wrong move and he'll be a human marshmallow.”
I took the phone from her hands. “Keep watching them, and you'll imagine a hundred ways for me to die before I even get on the plane.”
She smacked my arm, her eyes narrowing even as worry softened her voice. “Don’t say things like that. I swear, Aeron, you're going to give me a heart attack before you even leave.”
“Relax, sweetheart, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She’d found her way to me twice without even knowing it. I wasn’t letting anything take her away.
“You'd better keep that promise.” Her mouth turned into an adorable pout.
I swallowed hard, my breath catching sharply.
That damn pout—it wasn't fair how easily she could unravel every shred of my restraint.
She didn't even have to try. I forced myself to hold back, fighting the urge to push her down right here, knowing that once my lips touched hers, I'd lose any hope of stopping.
If I didn't have to leave in five hours, she'd already be beneath me, and I'd be too far gone to stop.
“Do Ayden and Allen know about you going to Congo?” She slipped her arm through mine, pulling me back from the edge of dangerous territory.
“Ayden knows, so Allen probably found out five minutes later. Those two track me more closely than the CIA.” Ayden had shot me a skeptical look when I told him, convinced I'd vanish again and reappear a year later like I usually did.
“With your track record of disappearing, I would've put on a GPS tracker,” Astrid teased, laughing as she intertwined her fingers with mine. She flipped my hand over, comparing the size of our hands. Everything she did was adorable. “How close are you to them?”
It felt good—too good—that she wanted to know more about me.
“Ayden moved in with us after his parents passed away, so we grew up together. He’s been family ever since, though he's always preferred the vineyard to our house—those two are inseparable. Allen was a school friend. His family moved away when we were in ninth grade, but we've stayed close.”
She looked up at me, curiosity written all over her face. “Why’d he come back to Orange Falls? Where’s Kaia’s mom?”
“He never talked about her. Never explained why he moved back here, either. Kaia was a month old when he returned with a woman he introduced as his grandmother. I'd met both of his grandmothers, and Margaret wasn't either of them. He seemed hesitant to say more, so I didn't pry.”
“I always thought Allen was the normal one in your group, but now I’m seriously reconsidering.” She turned toward me, a playful accusation in her eyes. “Were you three always this mysterious, or was being mysteriously complicated the basis of your friendship?”
Mystery. The word sat heavy. The irony was that mine was right in front of me. I brushed my thumb along her cheek. “If I'm the mystery, then what does that make you?”
Her smile slipped, barely noticeable, but I saw it. “I don’t have any.” Her eyes were guarded, hinting at a story her lips weren’t telling.
I knew I should stop—let it go, just like I had before—but logic didn’t stand a chance when it came to Astrid. “That Cryptex box.” The words slipped free before I could reconsider. “What’s in it?”
Her body tensed, the subtle reaction giving her away.
If she thought I'd forgotten, she was only fooling herself.
I remembered every detail about her—every reaction, every gesture, every little thing she did.
From the moment I'd seen that box—the panic in her eyes, the swift way she'd pulled back—I'd known she was keeping something from me.
Nobody used a puzzle lock unless the secret inside mattered deeply.
Was it something related to her dad?
No—she wouldn't have reacted like this. We'd already crossed that bridge.
Or was it someone else’s—someone who mattered more deeply than I was ready to admit?
I shut down the thought, refusing to even consider another man holding that kind of importance to her. Even the possibility burned bitterly at the back of my throat.
“You still don’t trust me enough to tell me?”
She opened her mouth, searching for words that never came, and then shut it again. Stubborn one. I wanted all of her—the parts she hid, the pieces she guarded—but clearly, I was alone in that desire. A bitter frustration rose sharply in my chest, pushing me to my feet.
Astrid caught my hand, her voice soft, breaking slightly. “Aeron, hear me—”
“Are you going to talk about it?”
Silence stretched between us.
“Not now. You’re not in—”
“I have a flight to catch. We’ll talk later.” I peeled her fingers from mine.
It tore me apart—the way she’d forgotten our five days, something I could never erase, yet clung fiercely to a Cryptex box belonging to someone who mattered more.
I opened the door and left without turning back. If I looked at her now—if I saw those eyes—I knew I'd lose my resolve. I'd let it go, forget the Cryptex, forget the hurt, and stay.