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“For saying something. For hurting you.”

“But not for believing the worst of me or even repeating it?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Can’t say that I like your answer, Princess, but I love the honesty. Still want to go up into the mountains? Even if it’s with a man who might be dangerous and you don’t know whether you can trust?” The edge to his voice could cut glass.

I scrunch my brows together. “Is there coffee?”

His whole body rumbles with laughter before he walks forward and wraps my shoulders loosely in one of his arms. “Come on then. Can’t have you caffeineless on a Friday morning.”

He makes us espresso drinks at the fancy machine and is heading to the garage when he turns back. “Do you have your equipment?

“See? This is why coffee is so important.” I dash upstairs to my room and marvel again at the image on the wall. I grab my bag and am back out the door, reminding myself to ask him about the shades.

I pull the door closed with a click and begin speaking when I’m down the stairs enough that Christian is in view. “The studio window coverings? I don’t understand. They weren’t there last night.”

“They’re on a smart hub. You can open or close them as you need. Most of the time in the summer we keep them closed due to the angle of the sun hitting your work.”

“And yesterday?”

“I opened them before we went into the room.”

Oh. I make a hmm noise and wonder what else in this house is smart. It seems everything from the blinds to the television can be done remotely. I wonder what else is.

“Can you hook up the smart system to the espresso maker so I can talk to it? Make me a latte, Georgio. I wouldn’t argue with that.”

“Did you just name our Italian import espresso machine Georgio?” He walks around the island to face me.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeats, brushing my hair aside and placing a kiss on my forehead. “Let’s get out of here.”

He grabs the keys and leads me to the G wagon, opening my door and waiting for me to climb in before shutting it behind me. Who spends this kind of money on cars? And why?

It only takes me a few minutes to figure out the latter question. The ride is lush. The cabin is perfectly appointed, and it can go anywhere. Not that we will, but we could.

“How long has it been since we’ve done something like this?”

“Too long.”

“Which is…” I roll my wrist as if he needs the visual to go on.

“Months. Things with work have been busy, and I haven’t allowed myself the luxury of a day off to play lately.” He captures my free hand and links our fingers.

“So I go by myself? ”

“Or with your interns. But more often than I like, you go alone.”

“And then this”—I point at my head—“And work isn’t that busy?”

“No. Work is still the same.” He raises my knuckles to his lips and kisses me there. “Just different priorities. I’ve never liked you going alone. I’ve never felt it was safe. It feels like we live in spotlight or shadow. Neither is good when I need to protect you.”

“What do you need to protect me from?”

“There’s too much buzz around us. Too many people interested in our lives. We’re private people leading a very public life.”

“Oh.” I use my free hand to rub my temple.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Yeah. It’s dull but it’s there.”

“Tell them about it on Tuesday at the follow-up. I understand some recovery time, but this seems longer than necessary.”

I nod.“I will.”

I watch the sun peek over the horizon in the side mirror as we hit the foothills. The light is perfect when we reach the pass.

“Do you want to hike to any particular point?” Christian asks as we wind through the dancing gold aspen leaves.

“Let’s just drive a while. I kind of wish we’d brought the convertible so we could see the sky.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his thumb strokes my knuckles as I watch the forest through my window. After a couple of minutes, I speak up. “Pull over when you can? There’s a creek back there that’s worth finding again.”

It takes another three miles to find a place to turn around. But we make it back to the spot and park just off the road.

Christian rounds the hood and opens my door, grabbing my bag from the backseat before placing a hand low on my back and following me into the brush. The shadows are on the cold side of crisp, since the sun hasn’t made it under their cover.

I trail my fingers over the bark of trees as we pass thinking about the ecosystem of these stunners. Their roots are one as if a family or one giant tree. No one tree exists on its own.

The squish of leaves under my boots is echoed under Christian’s as well.

A twig pops under me. Snap!

My memory swirls, like ink dropped in water, and my mind is sucked into a past I do not know.

“I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?’ That’s laughable”

“I’m not laughing, Ayla. And this isn’t a joke. There will be consequences if you go through with this.” And with that, he slams the door to his office on me, the sneer on his face as cold as ice.

Do I even know this man?

My head whips over my shoulder, trying to rectify the man I’m with and the man I remember.

The man I remember .

“What is it?” His eyebrows rise as he meets me where I stand.

“Nothing. Just trying to see everything with fresh eyes.” The latter isn’t a lie. The first definitely is.

We walk on in silence, neither of us filling the fall morning with chatter. My memories retreat into shadow and, for now, it’s a relief.

I eventually halt but walk a wide arc around a brook that babbles as it breaks over the rocks in its path.

“Here works.”

He slides my pack off his shoulder and hands it over, extending a hand for my coffee mug. It’s a natural gesture, as if we’ve worked in tandem for years.

I set up my tripod and the only camera I brought and take several stills.

The gold of the aspen’s leaves reflects the morning sun, creating a halo that infuses the treetops. Shadows below are given no relief. The water has that ethereal silver haze, as the movement remains while the rest is frozen in time. It’s like the color was leached as it moved toward the ground.

Dark versus light.

Shadow versus sun.

Memory versus…what?

I’m lost in thought until a coffee mug crosses into my line of vision.

“Thank you.” It’s weak, but it’s something.

And, as if the forest knows of my melancholy, the breeze blows, the leaves rattle, and the sun pushes to the ground, ruining the contrast in the picture. The light has ruined the shadow, and the time for capturing it has passed.