shapes, and all connected by a lattice of rope bridges, platforms and walkways. The design was asymmetrical, yet oddly harmonious.
Every pod-like chalet was set a short distance from the main walkway and could be reached by flowing wooden steps. Some had only short flights. Some curled round the trees like spiral staircases.
I spun around on my heels, taking it all in, letting the circular motion create a breeze where there was none, ruffling through my simple fifties sundress and cooling my skin.
I could hear voices, but I wasn’t sure where they were coming from. One of the treehouses close by, I thought. I set off, keeping my ears trained on the sound. Listening for Sunday morning.
I stopped when the voices were directly above me, in one of the treehouses that could be reached by a spiral staircase. A man appeared at the top of the steps and I waited until he was halfway down before I approached him.
‘Hi,’ I said, and he almost jumped three feet in the air. I suppose he wasn’t used to seeing frizzy-haired women in white sundresses wandering round the jungle. ‘I’m looking for Adam Conrad.’ He replied in broken English and pointed up the winding staircase. I smiled my thanks and climbed up.
The main room of the treehouse was stunning. Even though this part of the resort was still officially under construction, it was obviously very close to completion, because it was fully furnished and decorated. In the centre of the room was a large bed, covered in crisp white linen, surrounded by a dark-stained wood and cane frame. The walls were also white, and though such a stark colour scheme should have looked bare, the golden-green light from the jungle outside spilled in through a large opening at the far end, making the room seemed fresh and clean and inviting.
My ballet pumps made hardly any noise as I crossed into the centre of the room, looking all around.
‘Adam?’ I only whispered his name, overcome by a sudden attack of nerves. I had no idea how he’d react to my arrival on his territory. If I’d been him I wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me.
For a moment all I could hear was the fluttering of the sheer white curtains that half covered an open space on the far side of the room, but then I heard a creaking noise outside, and as I looked more closely I realised there was a balcony built onto the edge of the room, joining it with the jungle outside, making it seem as if one flowed into the other.
And then I saw him. Adam. Standing by a wooden railing, gazing out into the unending foliage. I walked up to the threshold until I was half in, half-out of the room, my suede-clad feet silent on the polished wooden floor. But as I stepped out onto the balcony I let my foot slap down, announcing my presence.
Adam spun round and his mouth dropped open.
I’d thought I couldn’t ruffle Adam’s feathers, thought I’d lost the knack, but I’d never seen him so off-balance. It went deeper than momentary surprise, however. His face seemed different. The lines were etched in harder and there were smudges of darkness under his eyes.
My nose stung furiously. I’d done this to him.
I’d thought I understood how much I’d hurt him, but until this moment I hadn’t. I really hadn’t.
‘Hi,’ I said, and my heart clog-danced against my ribs.
I couldn’t hold his gaze. Stupidly, I’d thought I might see a flicker of the old warmth there, but there was nothing. I’d never realised brown could look so cold and uninviting. I couldn’t keep my greedy eyes off him for long, though. As much as it hurt, I had to let them feast on him. It felt as if I hadn’t seen him in months. In years. But I suppose that fitted. I’d spent a whole lifetime not seeing Adam Conrad. How stupid and cowardly and selfish I’d been.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said quietly, not moving—as if doing so would cause me to vanish in a puff of smoke.
I took a step forward. ‘I missed my best friend.’
He closed his eyes and then slowly opened the lids, his body sagging slightly. ‘I’m not sure you and I can ever be friends again,’ he replied carefully.
I was being stupid, edging my way up to what I wanted to say to him, and my first clumsy attempts had made it sound as if this was all about what I wanted, what I needed. It’s just that I was terrified. Terrified I really had taken things too far this time—beyond the point of no return—and that I’d destroyed the one thing I treasured most in the process. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but I had to try.
‘I know,’ I said in a quiet voice. ‘But while you’ve been away I’ve had time to think. Really think.’
Adam gave me a look that said he wasn’t sure ‘thinking’ would solve my problems. A swift kick in the pants, maybe…
I moved closer, until I was almost at the balcony railing with him, but the sentence I’d planned fluttered away as I took in the view.
Because of the steep hillside we seemed to be floating in the air. Before us was the jungle—tall trees, waxy-leaved plants, the odd bright spot of colour—and beyond that, just visible through the dense vegetation, the white gold of a beach, topped by a shimmering sea.
‘I think this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,’ I whispered.
Adam turned away from me again and placed his hands on the railings. ‘I said you’d like it.’ His voice was flat and expressionless, but at least he was talking to me. He talked towards the jungle, keeping his gaze straight ahead. ‘What do you want from me?’
I swallowed. This was it. All the games, all the side stepping and self-protection had to end now. Telling the old Adam I cared for him would have been hard, but confessing it to the new Adam…it was nigh on impossible. This Adam was far more dangerous—and not just because I’d opened my eyes to the attraction that had been so very obvious to almost every other woman he met.
This Adam had the power to crush me, to turn me into that pining, hopeless woman I’d never wanted to be. Where old Adam would have grudgingly forgiven me eventually, this man I loved probably wouldn’t. Probably shouldn’t. But he had my heart anyway, and I knew that if I was ever going to have the slightest chance of repairing things with him I needed to offer it to him as a sacrifice. If he plunged a knife in it, so be it. I was helpless to do otherwise.
I matched his position at the railing, staring out over the lush greenery as I collected myself, but after a few heartbeats I turned to face him and waited until he looked round. He didn’t turn fully, just glanced warily over his hunched shoulders and stiff arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, and darn it if I didn’t start to cry again. What was wrong with me these days? I took a moment to hold the flat of my finger under my eyelashes, mopping up the moisture, and to still my trembling mouth. When I pulled my fingers away they were moist and grey. ‘I really am sorry…for all the things I said, all the things I did. All the things I tried to do…’
I inhaled, collecting my courage together.
‘But I also came to tell you that you are wrong.’
I saw a flash of surprise in Adam’s eyes, swiftly replaced by anger. Surely that had to be better than nothing, than the deadness I’d put there? I carried on, feeling braver. ‘Love isn’t a two-way street. Love isn’t about balance.’
He
