I looked up as Javier put his dinner tray down across from mine. He just couldn’t seem to take a hint.

“Javier, I’m exhausted, and I’m in no mood to say what I’ve already told you a dozen times,” I snapped.

Javier didn’t say a word as he dropped into the seat across from me, defiantly beginning to eat. He turned to Amy, who was sitting next to me, and started asking about her day. Amy gave me a look, clearly uncomfortable at getting caught in the crossfire.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened in the three days since I’d told Javier that I wasn’t interested in him. I couldn’t tell if he thought that he could somehow get me interested in him again, or if he somehow didn’t realize how awkward he was making this whole project for me—and for everyone around us.

I stood up abruptly, my appetite gone. I grabbed my tray and brought it over to the cleaning station, roughly scraping what I hadn’t eaten into the trash. I hated to do that—this village knew poverty all too well, and it felt like such a blatant display of wealth to be able to throw away the food I didn’t want. Still . . .

I looked back towards the table where Javier was animatedly chatting with Amy, his eyes on me the whole time. There was no way I could spend another second there in the cafeteria.

Things were strained between Javier and I, but at least—after explaining the situation to Jenna—we were no longer working together.

What I couldn’t puzzle out was what was going on in Oliver’s head. He had remained distant, almost cold, over the past few days. It was like he had no recollection of that last night that we’d spent together . . . I wondered if he was mad at me about leaving. Or maybe he just wanted to keep his distance, since we were both there for work reasons . . . But he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would care about that.

And what was he doing here, if not trying to impress me?

Speak of the devil, as I walked out of the cafeteria, I saw Oliver coming toward me. He froze, staring at me for a moment, and then deliberately turned like he was going to go to the bathroom instead.

“Oliver, wait!” I called, jogging down the path toward him. The village was quiet at this time of night. A lot of the volunteers had headed over to the next town to get beers—I’d actually thought Javier was with them or I would have finished my dinner a little quicker. And the villagers were gathered in their communal hall for their evening social event.

Oliver paused reluctantly. “Ms. Boutelle,” he said formally. “Is there something I can help you with? Maybe you had an idea for a project that we can do here in the village?”

I stared at him for a long moment, mouth slightly agape. It was one thing for him to ignore me when we were surrounded by my coworkers, who I guess were technically his staff. It was another thing entirely for him to continue to act like he didn’t know me when no one was around.

I grabbed his arm and dragged him along with me to my tent, yanking him inside before he could protest. Then, I whirled on him, hands on my hips.

“All right, what’s this about?” I asked him. “You came all the way down to Central Africa to ignore me? Are you just trying to drive me crazy or is this some weird way of showing that you’re over me?”

“I needed to come down here to check on my project,” Oliver said, folding his arms across his chest. “You know that. My company is the reason this project even exists; I want to make sure everything is being carried out the way that we had planned ahead of time.” He paused. “Lucky for you, I should be out of your hair in the next day or two.”

“Lucky for me?” I echoed, confused. What had happened to the Oliver that I had known in New York City? The one who had sent me all the flowers and taken me out on dates?

“Well, I imagine I make your position with your boyfriend very uncomfortable,” Oliver said. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Javier isn’t my boyfriend,” I said, shaking my head.

“Sure,” Oliver said. “Well, either way, your personal life is none of my business.”

“But you care, don’t you?” I asked. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week? Because you came down here as some grand gesture to show me that you love me, only then you thought I was with Javier?”

“I didn’t come down here as some grand gesture to show you that I love you,” Oliver said peevishly.

“You could have fooled me,” I retorted. “Why else did you just happen to end up in the same place as me, at the same project site?”

Oliver tapped his finger on his chin like he was considering. “Hmm, maybe because the aid world is relatively small?” he suggested sarcastically. “I bought the company that is nominally doing the hiring for this project ages ago. Actually, I signed the paperwork the same night of your dinner party. You know, the one where you threw me out at the end for being a selfish asshole?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” I asked skeptically. “You didn’t care about those disaster victims at all when we saw the news about Argentina.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “That’s what you assumed,” he said. “Of course I cared, I just knew that there was nothing I could do about it just then, not until things had settled down a little. Then I threw every resource I had at the aid effort.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling silly. “But how did you just happen to buy out Javier’s company?”

Oliver shrugged. “Again, the aid world is apparently small. How did you just happen to host a benefit dinner that my sister heard about?” He paused. “Look, I’ll admit that you’ve had a profound impact on me. You’re the reason that I got involved, the reason why I bought the company Javier is working for. On our first date, I told you that I really care about the projects that my money is going towards. You reignited my passion for work, something that has sadly been missing for a long time.”

He paused. “You and I have pretty similar pasts,” he mused suddenly. “Both orphans. Both interested in helping people. I took the money that I already had and started investing it in different projects, and you were the one who went out to do those projects.” He paused. “I like this, though. I really get to see exactly who I’m helping, and what the money is going towards. I feel like I can help more people this way than I could if I were doing what you are doing—not only do I not have the skills that I’d need, but there are other people who could just do those jobs better.”

I frowned, trying to puzzle through his words. Trying to figure out what those words had to do with the way that he’d been avoiding me since his arrival. But Oliver apparently wasn’t through.

“The thing is, I’m never going to be a guy like Javier—the kind of guy who goes from aid project to aid project, laying bricks and digging wells and getting his hands dirty. I want to help, but that’s not the best way for me to do it. And if that’s the kind of guy that you’re looking for, then I’m never going to be the ‘perfect’ guy for you.”

I stared at him. “I knew that,” I finally said. “I knew you weren’t the perfect guy for me. We’re too different.”

“See?” Oliver said, throwing his hands in the air. “You think I’ve come all the way down here to beg for your love—and you don’t even care about me. I’m sick and tired of chasing you and never being good enough, Sophia.” He shook his head. “I can be myself—a better version of myself—because of you. But I’m still always going to be me. I’m glad that you’ve found someone like Javier, someone who’s more your type. Someone who isn’t too different from you. But you have to stop expecting me to act like we’re in a relationship when that’s clearly not something that you really want. That’s not fair to me.”

I gaped at him. “That’s not what I meant,” I said weakly, even though I didn’t know how to refute his words.

Oliver shook his head. “Like I said, I’ll be leaving soon enough, and then you can forget all about me,” he said. “Now, I think I should probably tell you good night.” He strode briskly from the tent.

I stared after him, not sure what I was feeling. I wasn’t quite numb, but that was close. I just felt . . . shell-shocked, almost. I wondered if maybe I had been too hard on Oliver all this time. I’d spent so much time wanting him to be like Javier that I didn’t appreciate the man that he really was.

He had always been kind to me, and I should have known that it went further than that. But I’d let myself be swayed by the things that Jeri and the media had to say about him. I didn’t appreciate that he could show selflessness in a way that was consistent with who he really was.

And what’s more . . . It came as a shock to hear him say all those things about the effect that I’d had on him. How could I have never realized?

I ran a hand through my hair. It’s because I never even gave him a chance to show me who he really was, I realized suddenly.

I sank slowly down on the edge of my cot, thinking about that. I’d been so busy blaming Oliver and our differences this whole time that maybe I hadn’t realized that I was the one who was really sabotaging the relationship from the start.

I’d talk to him the next day, I resolved. Tell him about my feelings for him, ask if we could try again.

But no, that’s silly, I realized. He said he’s only going to be here for one more day; you can’t try a relationship with him, even if you wanted to.

I swallowed hard, realizing that I had no doubt lost my chance. Still, I should at least apologize.

With that thought in mind, I lay down and let sleep claim me.