Ardens been quiet and distracted. Which is a blessing and a curse. Blessing because now I can stare at the woman who holds my heart in her injured palm unknowingly without being glared at and a curse because what the hell is going on in that gorgeous head of hers.

The fire burns steady, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the shack. It's not much, but it's enough for now.

I glance over at Arden. She's sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at something in her hands—a coin, I think. Her brow is furrowed, her lips pressed into a tight line.

"What's that?" I ask, breaking the quiet and shifting closer, slight enough that she hardly notices until our knees brush. I freeze, keeping my eyes on the coin.

She looks up, startled, and closes her hand around the coin. "Just something I found. Doesn't matter."

I raise an eyebrow but don't push. Arden's got this way of holding onto things, keeping them close like she's afraid they'll disappear if she lets anyone else see them. It's one of the things I've always found fascinating about her—how she can be so open and yet so guarded at the same time.

Instead, I turn my attention back to the fire, adding another branch to keep it going. The heat feels good, chasing away the chill that's been sinking into my bones since we got here.

The shack creaks around us, the wind rattling through the gaps in the walls, but it holds. Barely.

"This place is falling apart," I say, more to myself than to her.

"It's still better than nothing," she replies, her voice soft.

She's right. It's not much, but it's something. A roof over our heads, a fire to keep us warm, and each other.

Not that I'd ever say that last part out loud.

Arden shifts, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. Her hair falls in dark waves around her face, and for a moment, I can't look away. She looks... peaceful, almost. Like she belongs here, surrounded by the wild and the firelight.

"You're staring," she says without looking at me.

"Maybe I am," I say, leaning back against the wall and crossing my arms. "You got a problem with that?"

She snorts, but I catch the faintest hint of a smile.

The fire crackles, and the wind howls outside, but inside, it feels almost... safe.

The silence gives me time to think, not that it helps much. Every breath I take, my mind circles back to Arden—her guarded smile, the way her hair catches the light whether from the fire or the sun or the moon, the fire in her eyes whenever I say something that pisses her off.

I've loved her for as long as I can remember.

Not that I'd ever admit it to Matt. Hell, I can barely admit it to myself. But it's there, this gnawing ache that's only gotten worse over the years. She's the one thing I've never been able to have, the one line I swore I wouldn't cross.

Until I did.

The memory of that night at Matt's wedding is a constant presence, as vivid now as it was then. Her lips on mine, her body pressed against me, the taste of champagne and something sweeter.

And then, the morning after.

She'd slipped away before I even woke up, leaving nothing but a cold spot in the bed and a pit in my stomach. I told myself it didn't matter, that I'd move on like I always do. But I haven't—not really.

Because Arden isn't just anyone. She's everything.

I look to her, and open my mouth, wanting to spill everything but she's sleeping and now's not the time.

Instead, I sit beside her in the fading light, the tension stretching between us like a bridge I'm not sure how to cross.

Later, as the fire dies down and the sounds of night drift in, I watch her sleep, her head resting on her folded arms. She looks peaceful, her features soft and unguarded in a way I rarely see.

I know I should sleep too, but I can't. Not with the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on me.

I want to tell her how much she means to me, how she's the only thing that's ever felt real in a life filled with noise and chaos. I want to promise her that I'll find a way to get us out of here, that I'll keep her safe no matter what.

But more than anything, I want her to let me in.

Because if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that I'm not walking away from this island without her.

I reach for the blade and the long sturdy stick I'd found earlier, beginning to try and secure them together to create some type of spear.

It can't be that hard.