He stopped walking and turned to me, clearly insulted. “I was honestly interested in staying here and I am planning a segment hike.”

I shook my head. “You are taking a month away from work and your computer to do that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m taking longer.”

I laughed in disbelief. “And maybe I’m the Queen of England.”

He shot me a heated glare and we walked in silence until he hit the summit of the trail—a ledge that overlooked the valley below us. We weren’t really high up, but high enough to get a nice view of the sunset, the high desert landscape all bathed in angry reds and oranges.

Adam stood, squinting over the canyon. I glanced up at him, memorizing his handsome face. A dry desert wind blew up here, stirring our clothing and hair. He spoke in a quiet, almost reverent voice. “So since we are going to be on the same premises together for the next few days, and for your mom’s sake, can we call a truce?”

I folded my arms. “I’ll be perfectly nice to you. Just stop trying to get me alone because we really don’t have anything to say to each other.”

“Really. Nothing at all?” he said mildly.

I shifted, hating how petty I sounded. I cleared my throat and looked down. “Except that I honestly hope that you and your family are well.”

He glanced at me and returned to admiring the view. “Thank you. They are.”

I took a deep breath and let it go. “And…I hope you do find happiness. I—I never said that before but I’ve wanted to. I hope…” and my voice died out. I wasn’t going to wish him happy with Lindsay because, let’s face it, I wasn’t Mother Teresa. I couldn’t go that far.

He turned to me, waiting for me to say more and when I didn’t, he spoke. “Maybe I’m already happy.”

Pain seized me. I couldn’t look at him. “Then great,” I said in a tiny voice.

He turned and watched me closely. “And you?”

I shrugged. “I’m getting there.” Another long pause, then I cleared my throat. “We’d better get going. It will be dark soon.”

I turned to leave but was brought up short when he reached out for my arm to stay me. His touched burned my skin and I flinched. I turned back to him and he said, “I was serious. I took a leave of absence from the company.”

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I opened my mouth and then closed it. “For how long?”

He shrugged. “As long as it takes to prove to myself that I can do it.”

“And how is that working out for you? Any withdrawal symptoms yet?”

He did not look amused and I realized the inappropriateness of my joke. I looked away. “There you go again, Mia,” I said. “Putting your foot in it as usual.”

He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me. The boyish vulnerability I saw there almost ripped my heart, still beating, right out of my chest.

“I’m glad you did it,” I finally said. “And I’m glad you’re happy. And…” Deep breath, curled fists. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

And with that, I turned and started my run. Maybe if I caught him off guard—and while running downhill, I could get far enough ahead of him that I could avoid him for the rest of the night. I soon heard his feet behind me, hitting with regular steps that matched mine.

When we finally hit the bottom of the hill and flat land, he stopped me again. We were both breathing heavily. “Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you really glad I’ve found someone?”

Hell no. I shrugged. There was no way I could answer that question in any way that would preserve my dignity.

“Emilia, I’m not with anyone.”

My breath stuttered. “Excuse me?”

“There hasn’t been anyone since you. I’m not with Lindsay.”

My head spun. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe because of what you saw. But I was pissed off, okay? Lindsay had come down to the complex to have lunch, but when my assistant said you were there, I was getting rid of her. I thought you’d come to talk. When I saw that package on the table, well, I wasn’t thinking straight. I did that to Lindsay to purposefully hurt you.”

My breathing hitched. “Mission accomplished, then,” I said in a falsely bright voice. But I was dizzy with the wave of relief that washed over me at that news. I almost toppled. Relief came first, then crackling anger. How many times had I replayed that scene in my mind? How many times had I pictured them together as lovers—each time sinking a knife deeper into my heart? I fought for breath, feeling close to tears again, to my utter humiliation.