As the river music filled my head with its poignant sorrow, I longed for him to hold me again, and promise me that he would try to be as nice as he could, but he stayed on his side of the dusty grotto, as far away from me as he could get. I had been sending him so many mixed signals lately, I was sure he was about to derail. Resolutely I disciplined my thoughts—I couldn’t have things both ways. I had already let things go way too far between us. It was time for me to wise up.
Scrunching down into my sleeping bag, I prodded at the bag of clothes I was using for a pillow until it wasn’t quite so lumpy. Above me I could just see the Southern Cross from beyond the overhang. Bits of gravel dust blew in with the breeze, peppering me as I tried to get comfortable, but I refused to turn my face a
