Page 48

Serena rose as well, escorting her toward the door with perfect hostess courtesy. Everything about her screamed control—from her precisely styled hair to her carefully modulated voice offering platitudes about "catching up later."

At the doorway, Lila paused, a decision crystallizing within her.

She could walk away now, accept the unspoken retreat, and pretend this gradual freezing out wasn't happening.

That's what the old Lila would have done—the one who'd spent years accommodating Sophie's emotional distance rather than demanding honesty.

But she wasn't that woman anymore.

"We need to talk about what's really happening here," she said, turning to face Serena directly.

Serena blinked, clearly thrown off by the direct confrontation. Her hand paused mid-gesture, suspended in the space between them.

"I'm not sure what you mean." The response was smooth, the verbal equivalent of a corporate press release—revealing nothing while appearing transparent.

"Yes, you do." Lila held her ground, watching as something flickered behind Serena's carefully composed expression. "Last night you let me in, but this morning you've been doing everything possible to push me away."

"That's not?—"

"It is." Lila stepped closer, refusing to be deflected by well-crafted denials. "You're scared, so you're pushing me away."

The words landed like a stone thrown into still water, ripples of impact visible in the tightening of Serena's jaw and the subtle whitening of her knuckles against the doorframe.

"You don't understand," Serena said, her voice taking on that sharp edge Lila recognized from their earliest interactions. "My company is facing a significant challenge. The board is questioning my leadership. These aren't trivial matters I can simply set aside for?—"

"For what?" Lila pushed when Serena faltered. "For me? For us? For yourself?"

The halogen brightness of morning sun through the villa windows caught the silver in Serena's hair, illuminating her in unforgiving clarity. For a heartbeat, the mask slipped, revealing something raw and uncertain beneath.

"For a temporary connection that has no future beyond this island." The words were spoken with CEO precision, each syllable a calculated strike.

Lila absorbed the blow without flinching. "So that's it? You've decided it's easier to end things now rather than face six more days of something real?"

"I'm just being realistic," Serena countered, crossing her arms in unconscious self-protection. "We both know I'm leaving. We both know my life is elsewhere. What would be the point of deepening something that can only end in disappointment?"

"The point is experiencing it while it's here," Lila said, her voice softening despite the frustration burning in her chest. "Not everything valuable has to last forever for it to matter or mean something, Serena."

Something shifted in Serena's expression—a flash of vulnerability quickly suppressed. Her phone chimed again from the table behind her, the sound slicing through the tension between them. The perfect escape route.

"I need to take that," Serena said, already turning away, already choosing retreat. "It's likely Ashley with the board update."

"Of course it is." Lila couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice. "There's always something more important, isn't there?"

She stepped backward through the doorway, creating physical distance to match the emotional chasm that had opened between them. The tropical morning continued around them—birds calling from flowering trees, waves breaking against the shore below, resort staff moving discretely along distant paths.

"This isn't about importance," Serena said, though her body was already angled toward her phone, her attention already divided. "This is about reality."

"No," Lila replied, clarity crystallizing through her hurt. "This is about fear. You're terrified of feeling something you can't control, so you're hiding behind work and practicality and all the walls that kept you safe before you came here."

Serena's expression hardened, that infamous ice queen persona reasserting itself fully. "You don't know me well enough to make that assessment."

The statement struck deeper than Serena could possibly know—an explicit denial of the intimacy they'd shared, the vulnerabilities exchanged, the truths whispered in darkness.

"I know you better than you think," Lila said quietly. "That's what scares you."

She turned before Serena could respond, walking away with measured steps that belied the storm brewing inside her. She wouldn't beg for attention or plead for honesty. She'd done that dance with Sophie, diminishing herself through desperate accommodation.

Never again.

The path back to her cottage stretched before her, filtered sunshine through palm fronds creating shifting patterns that matched her turbulent emotions. Behind her, Serena remained in the doorway, a silhouette against the bright interior of the villa—watching her go, but not calling her back.

Some patterns were depressingly predictable, even in paradise.

Lila barely registered the familiar path back to her cottage, her mind replaying every moment of the morning's confrontation. The tropical beauty surrounding her—vibrant flowers, calling birds, the constant shimmer of ocean beyond the trees—seemed to mock her inner chaos with its perfect serenity.

She pushed open her cottage door, the familiar space offering little comfort.

Everything looked exactly as she'd left it yesterday: books stacked neatly on the bamboo coffee table, a half-finished tea mug beside her meditation cushion, sea shells arranged along the windowsill.

Yet somehow it all seemed different, as if her perspective had shifted overnight.

Without conscious thought, she moved to her small bathroom, turning the shower to its hottest setting.

As steam filled the space, she caught her reflection in the mirror—flushed cheeks, too-bright eyes, hair still slightly mussed from Serena's hands.

Physical evidence of a connection Serena was now desperately trying to erase.

"Damn it," she whispered to her reflection, unexpected tears pricking her eyes.

She stepped under the scalding spray, letting water cascade over her head and shoulders as if it might wash away the hurt along with the lingering scent of Serena on her skin.

The heat worked into tense muscles, providing physical relief even as her mind continued its relentless replay.

"You don't know me well enough to make that assessment. "

The dismissal still stung, a calculated negation of everything they'd shared. Not just the physical intimacy, but the quiet conversations, the vulnerabilities exchanged, the genuine connection that had been growing between them.

Had she imagined it all? Projected meaning onto what was merely a vacation fling for Serena? Created a narrative of mutual understanding that existed only in her own mind?

Lila turned off the water with a decisive twist, stepping out to wrap herself in a soft towel. No. She hadn't imagined anything. The connection was real; she'd seen it in Serena's eyes in unguarded moments, felt it in her touch, heard it in words spoken when defenses were lowered.

What was equally real was Serena's fear. The way she'd retreated into work and walls when that connection threatened to deepen beyond her comfort zone. The way she'd rewritten their story overnight, transforming intimacy into a "temporary connection" that required nothing more than polite distance.

As Lila dressed in a simple sundress, muscle memory carrying her through the motions, Marcus's warnings echoed in her mind. Had she ignored the signs? Fallen into her pattern of seeing potential rather than reality? Giving more than she received?

She moved to her small kitchen, brewing fresh ginger tea more from habit than desire.

Through her window, she could see resort guests moving along the paths and staff members carrying linens and fresh flowers—the normal rhythm of island life continuing undisturbed.

Six more days of this careful dance with Serena stretched before her like an eternity.

The soft knock at her door made her heart leap traitorously in her chest. Had Serena followed her? Come to explain, to apologize, to find their way back to the connection they'd shared?

But when she opened the door, it wasn't Serena standing on her small porch but Marcus, his usually cheerful expression shadowed with concern.

"Hey, sunshine," he said, his casual greeting belied by the worry in his eyes. "Got a minute?"

Lila stepped back to let him in, a mix of disappointment and relief washing through her. "How did you know?"

"Kai mentioned seeing you walking from the east villas." Marcus settled onto her small sofa, watching her with that gentle perception that made him such a good wellness coach. "Looking about as heartbroken as anyone wearing a sundress in paradise has a right to."

Despite everything, Lila found herself smiling at his description. "I'm not heartbroken."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then I must be imagining the dark clouds following you like a cartoon character."

She sank down beside him, curling her legs beneath her in a gesture of familiar comfort. "It's complicated."

"It usually is." He reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Want to talk about it, or should I just start the 'I told you so' chorus now?"

The blend of humor and genuine concern loosened something in Lila's chest, allowing her to breathe more freely for the first time since waking in Serena's bed.

"She freaked out," she said simply. "We had this amazing night together—not just physically, but really talking, really connecting—and then this morning..."

"The ice queen returned," Marcus finished when she trailed off.