The Compass to His Heart

Third Person's POV

“Why are you running away?” Terence asked.

Halle sighed, her breath swirling in the cold mist.

“I’ve already made a wish. Why wouldn’t I leave?” she stated as a matter-of-factly.

Terence frowned, his expression stiff. There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he asked, “Aren’t you curious about my wish?”

Halle shook her head and looked at him with a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Terence, you’re not that important to me. Also, you don’t have to worry. I won’t bother you anymore.”

The tension between them, sharp and unyielding like two locked blades, lingered long into the evening.

Outside, several large tables were set up for a grand feast. A local ethnic dance troupe had even been invited to perform.

As Halle and Terence entered the camp, they bumped into Darlene, who was carrying a bowl and a spoon.

The lively atmosphere caught Halle off guard.

“What’s going on out there? Why’s it so lively?” she asked, still trying to process the scene.

Terence opened his mouth to explain, but before he could say a word, Halle grabbed Darlene’s arm and dragged her outside.

“Captain Benson, tell me what’s happening!”

Darlene chuckled, freeing one hand to playfully tap Halle on the forehead.

“You and Terence had another fight, didn’t you? Is that why you’re sulking?”

Halle stayed silent for a moment, her smile fading into something more bitter. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Look over there,” Darlene said, gesturing with her chin.

Halle followed her gaze to see a group of young people in white coats stepping out of an SUV.

“It’s the new batch of volunteer doctors,” Darlene explained. “Every year, a new group comes to help in Tanzania. Some volunteer out of passion, others to boost their careers. But not many stay beyond a year because of the hard conditions here.”

Halle nodded knowingly. Life in Tanzania was no joke. Even basic things like taking a shower were a challenge as one had to draw water first before one could do so. Also, at night, one couldn't sleep deep due to the massive population of mosquitoes around.

Yet she had endured these for three years.

Perhaps her love for Terence had burned so brightly that it dulled the hardship, making her believe that as long as she could see him, life felt sweet despite the bitter hardships.

After dinner, Halle ran back to her room, carefully cradling something in her hands. She rushed to find Darlene and presented her with a handmade Maasai beaded ornament—a traditional symbol of blessings for love and unity, often given at weddings, rituals, and community events in Tanzania.

Holding her present, she gratefully said, “Captain Benson, thank you for taking care of me these past few years. You made this camp feel like a warm, welcoming home.”

Darlene’s eyes sparkled as she accepted the gift. “Well, aren’t you sentimental all of a sudden?”

She smiled warmly but wondered, 'Is this meant for this kind of occasion?'

Before Darlene could say more, Terence appeared out of nowhere. His eyes landed on the knot, and his expression was unreadable.

“Why does she get a gift?” he asked. “Where’s mine?”

His words felt like a dagger, striking Halle squarely in the heart.

He knew how she felt about him, yet he still said something so cruel. Asking her for a Maasai beaded ornament—a blessing for happiness in love—felt like forcing her to acknowledge his relationship with someone else.

Tears pricked her eyes as she stood up, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

“Fine! I’ll prepare your gift too,” she choked out before turning and walking away. Her clenched fists trembled, a clear sign of the storm she was holding back.

Behind her, Darlene’s voice broke through the silence, scolding Terence.

“What’s wrong with you? That poor girl gave me a gift to express her gratitude, and you just had to come in and ruin it. Now she’s upset because of you! Can’t you read the room for once?”

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.