I should have been happy with things as they were. Except I was miserable and wished I could take it all back. But I’d be damned if I was going to be one of those people who played out their insecurities at the expense of others. I had gone down this road because I knew in the end it was for the best, and I would see it through.
Meanwhile, I was getting increasingly annoyed at myself for noticing every move that Elias made, every word he exchanged with someone. It was so fucking unhealthy. I tracked him as he walked around the villages, laughing with the families we visited, picking up their kids, chasing them around. He was so good with everyone, and I desperately missed being the focus of his attention.
I wasn’t happy unless I was grasping at straws, and Elias had become my new way to punish myself.
That night when we pulled up to the hotel, I practically jumped out of the car the moment it stopped moving. As I grabbed my backpack, I looked at Elias. “See you at dinner.”
I expected him to nod and drive off, but instead he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I won’t be at dinner tonight. See you in the morning.”
I managed to respond, and I was fairly certain my tone disguised the fact that my chest caved into my spine. “Sure, no problem. Have a good night.”
He said goodbye and turned the truck around to take it to the parking lot in the back of the property. I walked back to my room, doing everything I could to avoid thinking about how I was feeling.
I showered and changed, then came down to the dining room where there were already a few people from our group talking and drinking beers. Sam was there with Tsehay, Abraham, and one of the drivers. For once he didn’t seem like he was berating them or acting like an asshole, but I still didn’t feel like dealing with him.
I didn’t feel like dealing with anyone.
I almost turned around and went back to my cottage, but sulking because Elias decided to pass up on another chance to be ignored by me would be next-level messy.
I walked over to the bar and ordered a beer, wanting to have a few minutes to myself before I joined the others at the table. Tsehay gestured at a chair between her and Abraham, but I held my hand up, letting her know I needed a moment.
I looked around the room as I sipped my beer. The dining room was its own building, designed in the same traditional style as the cabins. From the outside it looked like they had pushed three enormous beehives together. Inside it was long and wide, and smelled like the wood they used to make it. There were large windows running along the walls, and we could see the lamps lighting the paths to the rooms. They were open right now, and there were all kinds of sounds coming in.
The night was always buzzing with critters and animals serenading our evening meals. Crickets, cicadas, and the occasional hyena made for quite the symphony. Later, when everyone had gone to bed, packs of hyenas would start circling the property and would whoop all night. It was creepy as fuck, and when Elias first told me about it, I joked he’d have to sneak into my room and protect me while we were staying here. He just laughed and told me he’d buy me a flashlight.
I had it in my pocket right now, actually. The morning after he arrived I found a little red flashlight sitting on the passenger seat of the Cruiser, because even though I’d been acting like a complete asshole, he was still kind and kept his promises.
Remembering how easy things had been with us just a week ago and how shitty they felt now sank my mood even further. In an attempt to drag myself out of my funk, I tuned back into what was happening around me and focused my attention on the Ethiopian music coming in through the speakers. The woman’s voice was so melancholy, like her heart was breaking, and a guitar or some other string instrument was blending with her words, making it the perfect sorrowful companion. I closed my eyes to listen. Her singing was so beautiful I could have cried.
When it ended I opened my eyes and turned to see Tsehay standing next to me.
“That was beautiful and sounded really sad,” I told her.
She squeezed my shoulder, obviously catching on to my mood. “Ethiopia has gotten under your skin, Desta.” I almost laughed, because if she only knew how much. “That was Aster Aweke.” Tsehay explained and I nodded, recognizing the name of the popular pop singer. “She was singing Tizita—it’s like our version of the blues.” She smiled sadly at that, and I remembered how soulful her voice was. I wondered where that depth came from. “Tizita means something like a memory with a tinge of regret.”
I shook my head and laughed a humorlessly. “Figures.”
“I sing this one sometimes when we play at Black Orchid.”
I smiled at her casual mention of her alter ego and changed the subject, desperate to get off my moping. “That’s right, we haven’t had a chance to talk about your star power.”
She gave me a smirk, but her face did not look amused. She sat by me and then quietly asked, “Where’s Elias?”
Okay, so she was on to me.
I schooled my face in a neutral expression and answered, “Not sure. He said he was going to skip dinner.”
She kept her eyes on me for another moment without speaking. I panicked. Because if Tsehay suspected something, that meant other people might too. She took pity on me and whispered, “I know.”
Before I had any time to react, her voice dropped even lower, and she looked up to the
