I shook my head, forcing myself to let go of all the worrying for now. “Oh, just making a mental list of all the things I need to get done before I leave. But I guess I’ll just figure it all out while I’m in the office. It’ll be hard to say goodbye to Tsehay and Bonnie,” I said regretfully. “You’d think after years of doing this it would get easier. But there’s something about doing this kind of work. People bond fast and strong.”

He nodded in understanding and squeezed my knee gently. “First, we go on our hike to Entoto tomorrow. Then we can worry about the future.”

The lump in my throat didn’t let me respond with words, but I ran my hand over his thigh freely now that it was just the two of us in the truck—and I hoped that was answer enough.

We drove into the parking lot of the guesthouse in a comfortable silence, and within minutes I was standing in the lobby unsure of how to say goodbye after weeks of touching him until I had my fill.

He smiled at me, his hands in his pockets. “I have to spend the evening with my parents.”

I looked up at him, trying hard return the smile, despite the ache of the moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?”

He beamed at the mention of the hike. I knew he was excited to show me another one of his favorite spots in the land he loved so much. “I’ll be here at 8:00 a.m. Have a good night, konjo.”

He leaned in, and for a moment my breath caught in the way it did whenever he was about to kiss me. The anticipation was not a bit less electric even after so many of them. But he caught himself in time and raised a hand to me instead. His eyes were remorseful, and I mirrored his gesture as he turned to go.

The next morning Elias drove us up to Entoto on a paved road that ended across from a large Ethiopian orthodox church about halfway up the mountain. The church was stunning. Built in the shape of a hexagon from wood cut in the nearby forest, it was huge, and looked like a box of chocolates hidden among the eucalyptus trees. It was painted in bright colors: the outside walls in an ocean blue, the awnings in bright yellows and reds. I observed the priests, a familiar sight by now, walking by wrapped in white linen robes and holding colorful umbrellas with golden fringe to protect themselves from the sun.

It was quite a sight to encounter on this misty, quiet mountain. I’d brought my camera with me, planning to capture some views of the city from up here, but I was going to fill my memory card before we got to the trailhead.