Page 42 of The Retreat

Imogen sat on the edge of the bed, the worn wooden floor creaking softly beneath her weight. The room was quiet except for the distant tweeting of the birds.

The final dinner of the retreat was only an hour away, and here they were, Talia and Imogen, alone. Forced into a space that was somehow both safe and unbearably charged.

Across the room, Talia moved deliberately, checking her outfit in the mirror. She’d changed into a soft cashmere sweater and perfectly fitted dark jeans. It all looked so effortless, so completely put together. But Imogen was beginning to see what lay beneath that polished surface. And she wanted to see more.

I could kiss her, Imogen thought, her pulse quickening at the sudden surge of desire. But as quickly as it bloomed, doubt crept in. Would Talia want that? After everything that had happened between them, could they even begin to untangle what was real from what had been forced, faked, or manipulated?

The day had been a strange mix of laughter and tension, of stolen glances and awkward silences. And then there was Flora. The revelation about her had shaken them both. How she’d played them, the layers of deceit that had come to light. Both of them, caught in the same web.

Could they get past that? Could they move beyond the complicated history Flora had spun around them?

And what about the fresh guilt Imogen felt? She’d been lied to, but it didn’t excuse her completely. She’d still been a part of the hurt inflicted on Talia. Could there truly be forgiveness? Talia had said the words, yes, but could she really let go of those feelings so quickly?

Imogen shifted, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweater nervously. Even if Talia could forgive, could Imogen let go of all that? Could she forgive herself enough to try?

There was simply so much history and too many questions. Imogen didn’t know what the hell to do with it all.

Talia’s eyes met hers in the mirror, and for a heartbeat, Imogen thought she was going to address the tension. But then Talia looked away.

Imogen knew it would have to be on her, this decision, the next move. The past was such a tangle. But Imogen wanted to be brave.

Maybe tonight, she thought, we’ll find out if this can be more than just pretending. Maybe right now.