Page 124 of Lost Paradise

Astro, ever the flirt, nudges Eve with his shoulder. "Think this diesel will get us out of here?"

Eve smirks, taking a bite of watermelon. "If Foster can work his magic fingers, maybe."

Foster looks up from his tinkering, a confident grin spreading across his face. "I'll get it running. You can count on that."

Yet, despite the solidarity among the group, I can't shake the feeling that something is gnawing at Eve. Her eyes, the windows to her soul, reveal a depth of worry that she hasn't voiced.

“There’s a but in your unspoken voice,” I say quietly to Eve as the others talk among themselves.

She looks up at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You seem doubtful about Foster’s ability?”

“No. It’s not that.”

I bite into my watermelon as if I’m not expecting her to further elaborate, then toss the remaining skin behind me into the jungle. It’s biodegradable, and no one judges on littering here.

Eve sighs, her gaze distant. “Of course I want to be rescued. But I’m not sure I ever want to go home. Like Astro once said, it’s not really a home.”

Astro looks up, startled. “I never said—”

Eve holds up her hand to stop him. “But you were right about a lot of stuff, and that’s why I was angry. Manhattan is cozy, but it’s empty. I have to make an appointment just to chat with my parents, and even then, they think unless I have a reason, I shouldn’t waste their time. I get super expensive gifts on my birthdays and Christmas, but those gifts aren’t about me. They’re about my parents competing with each other. Sure, I’m popular—Manhattan’s society girl, where every guy wants to date me and every girl wants to be my friend. But again, it’s not about me. It’s what I represent when they’re seen with me. I live a very empty life.”

Her voice trembles slightly, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears. The group falls silent, the weight of her words settling over us.

“Being here has allowed me to see just that. I didn’t need Astro to tell me the truth. Here, I feel needed, wanted—not because of my name and what it means, but because I feel part of something important and I’m valued. My parents are probably already suing Hawthornes for negligence or something. When I go back, they’ll force me to return to Manhattan, marry some guy they choose for me, and breed the next plutocrat billionaire. That isn’t a life, it’s a prison. A prison disguised as a luxury lifestyle for the rich society.”

We all remain quiet, absorbing the depth of her confession. Her words cut through the veneer of our immediate struggles, revealing the profound emotional battles she faces. Eve's honesty creates a moment of raw vulnerability, bonding us in a way that survival alone never could.

Each of us processes her confession in our own way, and I can see the reactions unfold across the faces of the other four men.

Always the pragmatic leader and alpha, Foster looks taken aback. His confident grin falters, replaced by a furrowed brow and a somber expression. The realization of the emotional depth and the struggle Eve is facing hits him hard. He nods slowly, acknowledging her pain, then speaks up, his voice steady and reassuring.

“Eve,” he says, “we’ll get through this. Together. You’re more than what they tried to make of you, and you have us now. We’re not just a team; we’re a family and you’re my girlfriend.”

Usually composed and stoic, Byron looks visibly moved. His intense eyes soften, and he takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as if the weight of her words has settled on him too.

He reaches out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, offering silent support. “Eve, you’ve shown incredible strength. Whatever happens, you have us by your side.”

Uncharacteristically quiet, Zane’s usual smirk fades, replaced by a serious, contemplative look. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away for a moment, grappling with the realization of our predicament.

He looks back at Eve, his eyes filled with empathy, and gives her a slight, encouraging nod. “Eve, you’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Having always had a complicated relationship with Eve, Astro looks conflicted. His initial shock gives way to a mix of guilt and understanding. He shifts uncomfortably, his hand dropping from Eve’s waist. He’s the one who often pushes buttons and thrives on tension, but now he sees the deeper impact of his words and actions.

His eyes meet Eve’s, and for a moment, there’s a silent apology in his gaze. “Eve,” he says softly, his voice stripped of its usual bravado. “We’ll find a way. We’re in this together. There’s not a chance that some fucker will get a chance to marry what’s ours.”

I look at her, captivated by her strength and the raw truth she’s laid bare. It’s a side of her that makes me love her even more. Her vulnerability makes her all the more mesmerizing.

“Wildcat,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “ Astro’s right. You're ours. So, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

She gives me a small, grateful smile.

She brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze thoughtful yet resolute. Her eyes meet each of us in turn, acknowledging our support and understanding.

"Thank you," she says softly, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and determination. "I know this isn't easy for any of us. But knowing I have all of you here, standing with me—it means more than you know."

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "I want to get off this island, but I also want to find a way to live a life that feels true to who I am. Not the person they expect me to be." Her voice wavers slightly, but her resolve remains strong.

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