Terence snorted, crossing his arms. “Ungrateful brat. Who’s helped her the most around here? Me! So what if I ask for a gift?”
His tone carried a petulant edge, almost like a childish complaint.
Listening to Terence’s almost teasing rebuttal, Halle felt her chest tighten. It was as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs.
Third Person's POV
The conversation outside her room felt like a private exchange between lovers, with Halle as the unintentional third wheel.
She had never seen Terence like this before. Normally, he was all sharp edges—a constant frown and cold, unfeeling eyes. She had grown used to that version of him, believing he treated everyone the same.
But seeing him now, with his guard down around Darlene, was jarring.
It was clear that when people truly care for someone, they drop the pretense, exposing their most vulnerable selves. And Terence had made it abundantly clear who held his heart.
There were only two days left now. Tomorrow, Halle would leave Tanzania for good.
She glanced at the small gift box holding the Maasai beaded ornament she had spent the night stringing. A pang of sadness welled up inside her.
A sudden knock at the door broke her thoughts.
When she opened it and met Terence’s gaze, she instinctively hid the box behind her back.
This was the first time in two years he had come to her door.
Terence’s eyes swept the room, landing on the scattered clothes atop her bed. His heart suddenly clenched.
“Why are you packing?” he asked, a trace of unease in his voice.
Halle bit her lip and forced a smile. “You don’t need to worry about that. Your focus should be on Captain Benson and whatever plans you two have. Don’t waste your energy on me.”
Terence raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You already know? I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted with a smile.
That smile struck Halle like a blow.
Was news of his marriage to Captain Benson supposed to be a surprise for her?
The joy on his face was unmistakable as if he couldn’t wait to tell the world how happy he was. His cruelty wasn’t just in the announcement—it was in the way he delivered it, leaving no room for doubt or hope.
As such, her resolution solidified. By tomorrow, she would be gone, and none of this would matter anymore. It would just be a dream—a bittersweet, fleeting dream.
Steeling herself, Halle brought the gift box out from behind her.