Into the wilderness
The air in the wilderness was thick with damp heat and the perfume of blooming earth. Ava stood on the edge of the clearing, camera slung around her neck, boots caked in red mud. She had traveled halfway across the world to forget a man who tore her heart open, and now the jungle hummed around her like a lullaby—dangerous, unpredictable, strangely comforting.
It was supposed to be a photography expedition. A way to focus on nature, to lose herself in the rhythm of light and shadow, beast and leaf. But nothing ever went the way Ava planned.
Leo emerged from the thicket, shirt clinging to his chest, machete in hand. He cut a path through the vines with a grace that made her breath catch. He was the wilderness personified—untamed, weathered, quiet.
“You shouldn’t wander off,” he said, not unkindly. “This place doesn’t care about city instincts.”
Ava shrugged, raising her camera. “Maybe that’s the point.”
He didn’t smile, but his gaze lingered. “Sun’s falling. Let’s head back.”
They walked in silence, the jungle whispering around them. Ava found the rhythm comforting—two strangers moving together through a place that could swallow them whole.
Back at camp, Mara was waiting.
She sat cross-legged by the fire, stirring a tin pot of something spicy and unidentifiable. Her smile when she saw Ava was too wide, too bright.
“You’re back,” Mara said. “Thought the forest swallowed you.”
Ava chuckled. “Just taking some shots.”
Mara’s eyes flicked to Leo. “Of what? Him?”
Ava froze, then laughed it off. “Plants. Monkeys. A giant spider the size of your face.”
Mara didn’t laugh. “Be careful. Some things out here look beautiful until they bite.”
Later that night, Ava lay awake in her hammock, Mara’s words circling her like mosquitoes. She and Mara had been best friends since college, inseparable. But something had changed lately. Jealousy? Possession? Or maybe Ava was imagining things.
She thought of Leo’s quiet strength, the way he watched her like he was trying to understand a puzzle. Something about him felt real in a way no one had since Darren.
Darren. The name tasted like ash. The man who said he loved her, then slept with someone else. Who shattered trust with a shrug. She had run here to forget him.
And yet the jungle wasn’t letting her forget anything. It amplified emotions—made them raw and bright. Every glance, every silence, felt like it meant something more.
The next morning, the storm came.
It roared in from the west, a wall of gray fury. Trees bent low. Tents ripped free. Thunder split the sky like an angry god.
They ran for the cave Leo had shown them days earlier. It was narrow and damp, but dry. Safe. Inside, the three of them huddled together, rain pounding outside like war drums.
“I thought this trip was about solitude,” Mara snapped, brushing soaked hair from her eyes. “Not playing house in the forest.”
Ava narrowed her eyes. “What’s your problem?”
“You. Him. This... fantasy.” Mara gestured wildly. “You always need someone, Ava. You wrap yourself around the next guy like ivy.”
Leo stood then, his face unreadable. “I’ll check the entrance.”
When he was gone, Mara leaned closer.
“You don’t know him. You think you do because he’s silent and broody, but that’s just a mask. I’ve seen men like him. Dangerous men.”
“And Darren was what? A gentleman?” Ava snapped.
Mara blinked, then whispered, “He called me.”
The air went still.
Ava’s voice was a rasp. “What?”
“Darren. He called me a week ago. Said he was coming. That he had to warn you.”
The storm outside was nothing compared to the one rising in Ava’s chest. “You talked to him?”
“I didn’t want to upset you—”
“You lied.”
Mara didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
The next day, Darren arrived.
