By the time they arrived in Camiguin Aurelie had started feeling relaxed again. Luke had steered the conversation back to lighter subjects, moving from ice cream flavours to movie preferences and whether she supported the Mets or the Yankees.
‘Mets all the way,’ he’d assured her solemnly, but she saw a glint in his eyes that made her smile.
They disembarked the plane at the tiny airport and took an island taxi—basically, a rusted-out Jeep—into Mambajao. The capital of Camiguin was no more than a small town of rickety buildings with wooden verandas and tin roofs, the narrow streets bustling with bicycles and fruit vendors and raggedy children darting in and out of everything. It was so different from Aurelie’s usual experience of travelling, when she kept to limos and high class hotels and never stepped outside of a severely controlled environment. She loved this. Craved the feeling of possibility and even hope wandering around the dusty streets gave her.
‘What are we doing first?’ she asked Luke, and he smiled and took her elbow, steering her away from a man on a bike pulling a cartload of pineapples.
‘I thought we could pick up some lunch in the market, and then we’ll take it out to the falls for a picnic.’
‘The falls?’
‘The Tuwasan Falls. They’re pretty spectacular.’
‘You’ve been there before?’
‘I stopped over here the last time I came to Manila.’
She felt a completely unreasonable prickling of jealousy. Had he taken one of his serious relationships to this falls? Was this his go-to place for a romantic date in the tropics?
‘Alone,’ Luke said quietly, yet with a hint of humour in his voice that made her blush. Again. She’d never blushed so much with a man, had never had a reason to. She was Aurelie, she was worldly-wise and weary, beyond shame or embarrassment.
But that act was falling away, flaking off like old paint. What would be left when it was gone? Something good, or even anything at all? She still wasn’t sure of the answer.
‘Come on,’ Luke said, and he guided her to a market stall overflowing with local produce and fish. ‘Anything look good?’
Aurelie surveyed the jumbled piles of fruits and vegetables, the pots of noodles and trays of spring rolls.
‘Crispy pata?’ Luke suggested. ‘It’s deep fried pig’s leg.’
She winced. ‘I don’t think I’m feeling quite that adventurous.’
‘It’s quite tasty.’
‘You’ve had it before?’
‘I like to try new things.’
She pointed to a tray of round yellowish fruit that looked a bit like potatoes. ‘What’s that?’
‘Lanzones.’
‘Have you had those?’
‘Yes, but you have to be careful. If they’re not ripe, they taste horribly sour. If they are, incredibly sweet. You just have to take your chances.’ He picked up a fruit, testing its ripeness with his thumb. ‘Try it.’ The fruit seller quickly peeled the lanzone with a knife and handed her a piece. Warily, she bit into it and then, without thinking, spat the piece out into her hand. ‘Yuck!’
‘Bitter, huh?’
‘You don’t sound surprised.’
He shrugged, and she hit him in the shoulder. ‘You did that on purpose!’
‘Try this one.’
‘Why should I trust you?’ she demanded even as she took the second peeled lanzone.
‘Because even lanzones deserve a second chance.’
Something in his quiet, serious tone made her mouth dry and her heart beat hard. She took a bite, and her mouth filled with the intense sweetness of the fruit. Her eyes widened. ‘Wow.’
‘See?’ He sounded so satisfied, so smug, that Aurelie rolled her eyes.
‘Thank you very much for that life lesson. Message received. Everything deserves a second chance.’
‘Not everything.’ After handing the vendor some coins, he’d placed his hand on the small of her back and was guiding her to the next stall. ‘Just me and the fruit.’
He acted, Aurelie thought, as if he were the only one who’d made a mistake. Who needed a second chance. Yet when she thought of her behaviour at their first meeting—and even their second—she felt as if she was the one who needed to change. Who wanted to prove she was different. Not Luke.