The rest of the week flew by. The new survey area was not as populated as the first one, so we had to travel long distances between sites, which meant a lot of time in the car. I spent hours talking with Abraham and Yohannes, with Elias’s help. I asked how they thought the families were answering questions, or what else we could do to make them more responsive or at ease.

Elias was extremely efficient in keeping the communication flowing, but after a couple of days he had completely stopped any attempts at more private conversations with me. He was polite and professional, but he kept his distance. No konjo, no runs, nothing. Which was exactly what I wanted.

I should have been happy with things as they were. Except I was miserable and wished I could take it all back. But I’d be damned if I was going to be one of those people who played out their insecurities at the expense of others. I had gone down this road because I knew in the end it was for the best, and I would see it through.

Meanwhile, I was getting increasingly annoyed at myself for noticing every move that Elias made, every word he exchanged with someone. It was so fucking unhealthy. I tracked him as he walked around the villages, laughing with the families we visited, picking up their kids, chasing them around. He was so good with everyone, and I desperately missed being the focus of his attention.

I wasn’t happy unless I was grasping at straws, and Elias had become my new way to punish myself.

That night when we pulled up to the hotel, I practically jumped out of the car the moment it stopped moving. As I grabbed my backpack, I looked at Elias. “See you at dinner.”

I expected him to nod and drive off, but instead he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I won’t be at dinner tonight. See you in the morning.”

I managed to respond, and I was fairly certain my tone disguised the fact that my chest caved into my spine. “Sure, no problem. Have a good night.”

He said goodbye and turned the truck around to take it to the parking lot in the back of the property. I walked back to my room, doing everything I could to avoid thinking about how I was feeling.

I showered and changed, then came down to the dining room where there were already a few people from our group talking and drinking beers. Sam was there with Tsehay, Abraham, and one of the drivers. For once he didn’t seem like he was berating them or acting like an asshole, but I still didn’t feel like dealing with him.

I didn’t feel like dealing with anyone.