“Talk?” I tease. “Look at you, embracing your inner femininity.”

He doesn’t laugh, though. Instead, he says, “Yeah. Look, I know you’re not telling me the whole story. I told you that I always get what I want, and I meant it. I want you, and I want to be with you, but I know you’re scared, and I want to understand why. So over the next day or so, think about how you’re going to tell me your secret, whatever it is. And then come and see me inGreenfield, and we’ll go for a long walk in the mountains or the forest, and you can tell me everything.”

I put down my knife and fork, my appetite disappearing. There’s no point in denying it anymore. He knows I’m hiding something. “And if I don’t want to?”

I meet his eyes, and we study each other for a long time.

“What are you so scared of?” he asks eventually, looking puzzled.

“I like the way you look at me,” I say honestly. “And I don’t want that to change.”

“It won’t.”

“That’s not been my experience.”

“Nothing you can tell me would change the way I feel about you.”

I look away, out at the sunshine beaming down on the courtyard. I know there’s no point in arguing with him.

“Is this about Charles?” he asks. “Did you tell him everything?”

I swallow hard and look back at him. “Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“He told me it was over,” I say bitterly. “So forgive me for not believing that you won’t do the same.”

“I’m not like him, Zoe.”

But it doesn’t matter. Charles broke my heart, and the pain was enough to convince me that I can’t confide in a man like that again.

I look at my phone. “We’d better get to the airport.”

He nods. “Okay. But promise me you’ll think about coming to Greenfield.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say. But deep down, I wonder whether it’ll be better if, once we’re back in Wellington, I say it’s over. I’m a coward, and I can’t do it to his face because I know he’ll argue with me. But once we’re apart, it’ll be easier.

Somewhat guilty, I wonder whether I’ve ruined our friendship, and if it’s going to be awkward going forward when we all meet up. But there’s not much I can do about it now. It’ll be hard to be around him, knowing what we’ve shared, but I need to be an adult, lift my chin, and deal with it. We’ve had a kind of holiday romance while we’ve been away. Maybe when I get back to the real world, I won’t feel the same about him.

Yeah, Zoe. You keep telling yourself that.

Chapter Twenty-One

Joel

Zoe’s quiet on the plane on the way back to Wellington.

I’m not surprised. After she revealed that she told Charlemagne her big secret—and that the idiot dumped her afterward—it all began to make sense. She’s convinced I’m not going to want her when she tells me because that’s what history has shown her, never mind that I like to think I’m ten times the man he was.

But there’s no point in browbeating her to tell me. She has to believe that I won’t abandon her first.

I need to give her time, and I know as well that she wants to see her family, so I leave her to her thoughts and spend the flight writing up my notes about the excavation. I’m disappointed that we weren’t able to find the Mair Necklace for her, but we both knew it was a long shot. We still recovered some terrific items from there, including the spectacles she found. I make sketches of them in Procreate and add the drawings to the file, ready to print out when I get back.

Before long, we’re landing at Wellington. We make our way out of the airport and head toward the taxi rank.

Then we stop, and I pull her into my arms for a hug.

“Good luck with your family,” I say to her. “I’m going to suggest you fly down to Christchurch on Sunday morning, say, ten a.m.? I’ll organize the flight for you. But I’ll confirm it with you tomorrow, obviously.”