Page 35

SERENA

S erena slid her feet into sandals that cost more than some people's monthly rent and stepped out onto her villa's terrace.

Morning sunlight sparkled across the ocean, almost offensively bright and cheerful.

She squinted against it, wondering how she'd managed to wake up feeling both rested and restless at the same time.

Last night with Lila had been... unexpected. Not the dinner itself—she'd gone there with clear intentions—but the way they'd parted. With restraint. With promises of something more measured than their midnight pool encounter.

"Damn this island," she muttered, running a hand through her hair that she'd left loose—another small rebellion against her usual meticulous Manhattan style.

She made her way back inside, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

The woman looking back at her seemed softer somehow, like a photograph with the edges gently blurred.

Even her posture had changed, the defensive lift of her shoulders less pronounced after days of Lila's yoga sessions and that life-altering massage.

Her phone buzzed with a notification: Ashley, checking in from New York. The familiar rush of adrenaline hit her system, but instead of immediately answering, Serena found herself hesitating.

"Eleven days," she reminded herself. That's all the time she had with Lila before returning to the boardrooms and battles awaiting her. And she'd already wasted three of them pretending she wasn't completely captivated by a woman who looked at the world so differently from herself.

The thought sent her straight to her laptop anyway. She'd never been good at indecision. Half-measures weren't in her DNA. If she was going to explore this thing with Lila, she needed to rearrange her workload accordingly. Delegate where possible. Prioritize ruthlessly.

She fired off a series of emails to her executive team, rescheduling video conferences and postponing decisions that didn't require her immediate attention. Not abandoning her responsibilities, simply... reorganizing them.

When she finished, a strange sense of lightness settled over her. She'd just cleared space in her life—deliberately, methodically—not for a crisis or a strategic opportunity, but for a woman with kind eyes and challenging questions. A woman who made her feel more alive than she had in years.

Serena stood up, suddenly eager to get to the beach—to Lila—earlier than planned.

As she changed into the expensive yoga wear she'd brought for appearance's sake and now actually used, another notification popped up on her phone.

A reminder about the upcoming board meeting where her future at Frost Innovations would likely be decided.

She silenced the notification without opening it. The board, Vivienne Blackwood, and the whole mess would still be there when she got back. But Lila and whatever was growing between them was time-limited, precious.

The thought stopped her cold, halfway through pulling her hair back.

Time-limited. She'd built her career making decisions with long-term, strategic implications.

Short-term thinking was for amateurs and day traders.

Yet here she was, planning her day—planning her heart—around something with a guaranteed expiration date.

"This is either the most foolish thing I've ever done," she told her reflection, "or the most honest."

The woman in the mirror offered no answer, but for once, she looked more curious than certain. More alive than efficient. Serena decided it was a good look on her, even if it wouldn't translate well to boardroom politics.

She grabbed her water bottle and headed out, leaving her phone deliberately behind on the bedside table. Whatever emails, crises, or strategies awaited her attention, they could wait a few hours.

Right now, she had more important waves to navigate.

Whisper Cove welcomed Serena with its familiar crescent of perfect white sand, now bathed in the golden glow of early morning.

The secluded stretch of beach had become strangely meaningful to her in just a few days—a place where she'd first reluctantly stepped out of her comfort zone and into something new.

Lila was already there, of course. She sat cross-legged on her mat, eyes closed in meditation, her honey-blonde hair lifting slightly in the ocean breeze. Morning light caught the edges of her profile, creating a halo effect that made her look almost otherworldly.

Something squeezed in Serena's chest at the sight—not the panic-inducing tightness of a meeting gone wrong, but a different kind of pressure. Something dangerously close to tenderness.

Lila's eyes opened as Serena approached, a smile spreading across her face that seemed to brighten the already sunlit beach. "You're early again."

"I'm discovering the benefits of a flexible schedule," Serena replied, surprised at how easily the admission came.

"From you, that's practically a philosophical revolution." Lila patted the empty mat beside her. "How did you sleep?"

The question was simple enough, but something in Lila's tone suggested she was asking more than just about Serena's rest.

"Better than I have in months," Serena admitted, settling onto the mat with newfound ease. "Though my mind was... active."

"Thinking about work?" Lila asked, reaching forward in a gentle stretch.

"Among other things." Serena mirrored the movement, enjoying the subtle pull across her shoulders. "You, mostly."

The confession hung between them, more daring in the clear light of morning than it might have been in the shadow of night. Lila's stretching motion paused briefly, her eyes meeting Serena's with visible surprise at the straightforward admission.

"I've been thinking about you too," she said simply.

They moved through the initial poses together, a rhythm established over days of practice.

Serena found herself hyperaware of Lila's proximity, the graceful lines of her body, the soft sound of her breathing.

The attraction between them hummed like an electric current, acknowledged now rather than denied.

"I'd like to try something different today," Lila said as they finished their warm-up. "The tide is low, and there's a perfect stretch of wet sand. Would you be willing to practice closer to the water?"

Serena glanced toward the shoreline where gentle waves lapped against packed sand. "Any particular reason?"

"The unstable surface creates a different relationship with balance," Lila explained, gathering her mat. "It forces more awareness and presence in each moment."

As if I'm not already overly aware of every moment with you , Serena thought but didn't say aloud. Instead, she nodded and followed Lila toward the water's edge.

They laid their mats on the damp, firm sand where the receding tide had left a smooth surface. The ocean stretched before them, vast and constantly changing, waves forming and dissolving in endless patterns.

"We'll start with warrior pose," Lila instructed, demonstrating the stance with natural grace. "Feel how the sand shifts slightly beneath your feet."

Serena moved into position, immediately noticing the difference. On the studio floor or even the dry beach, she could lock her pose into place through sheer determination. Here, the surface demanded continuous small adjustments, a dynamic relationship rather than a static position.

"The body is always seeking equilibrium," Lila said, her voice carrying over the gentle sound of waves. "Even when we think we're perfectly still, thousands of tiny muscles are constantly adjusting, responding to gravity, to breath, to thought."

Like relationships, Serena realized. Not fixed points but ongoing negotiations with shifting conditions. The metaphor wasn't lost on her.

"Now reach toward the horizon," Lila continued, extending her arms with palms open. "Like you're offering something to the ocean."

"Or asking it for something," Serena murmured, the words surfacing from some unknown place inside her.

Lila's smile deepened. "Exactly. Yoga isn't just about holding positions. It's a conversation between your body and the world around it."

They flowed through a series of poses that felt both familiar and entirely new in this setting.

The sound of waves created a natural rhythm for their movements, the salt air filled their lungs with each breath, and the occasional splash of water against their feet added an element of playfulness to the practice.

As they moved into a more challenging balance pose, Serena found herself wobbling slightly on the uneven sand. Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing against Lila's arm to steady herself.

The contact sent a jolt through her system—a reminder of their night in the pool, of their kiss on Lila's porch. Lila turned toward her, steady as ever despite the shifting sand, and caught Serena's hand in hers.

"It's okay to need support sometimes," she said quietly. "Even the strongest people lose their balance."

The gentleness in her voice threatened to undo something in Serena, some carefully maintained barrier between her public self and her private truths. She tightened her grip on Lila's hand, allowing herself to be steadied both physically and otherwise.

"I'm not very good at asking for help," she admitted, the confession feeling monumental despite its simplicity.

"I've noticed," Lila replied with a teasing smile that softened the observation. "But you're better at it than you think."

They completed the session with their mats side by side, close enough that Serena could feel the warmth radiating from Lila's skin. As they moved through the final stretches, their bodies often brushed against each other—innocent contact that nonetheless felt charged with meaning.

When they finally settled into the closing meditation, Lila surprised her by reaching across the small space between them and taking her hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, as if they'd been doing this for years rather than days.