Page 54

"I had forgotten what this feels like," Serena admitted, voice barely audible above the gentle waves.

"What what feels like?"

"Being present. Not checking my phone every thirty seconds or mentally reviewing quarterly projections while pretending to enjoy the moment." She squeezed Lila's hand gently. "Actually being here, right now, nowhere else."

The confession, simple as it was, revealed more about Serena's transformation than any grand declaration might have. Lila felt a swell of something warm in her chest, a feeling too fragile to name just yet.

"Presence is a practice," she said instead. "Not a destination."

Serena turned toward her, moonlight casting half her face in silver while shadows claimed the rest. "You've taught me more in two weeks than years of executive coaching ever did."

"Maybe you were finally ready to learn," Lila suggested.

Their eyes met in the darkness, understanding passing between them without words. Whatever was growing between them—this connection that had survived misunderstandings and retreats and the looming knowledge of separation—felt increasingly precious with each passing hour.

A subtle shift in the breeze carried the scent of rain from distant clouds, breaking the spell between them. Lila glanced toward the horizon, where faint lightning flashed far out over the ocean.

"A storm is coming," she said, squeezing Serena's hand. "We should probably head back."

They turned, walking slowly toward the cottages as if reluctant to end their time together. The distant rumble of thunder matched the tumbling thoughts in Lila's mind—hopes and fears colliding like air masses before a storm.

"Would you like to come back to my villa?" Serena asked, her voice catching slightly on the invitation. "For a nightcap or just... to talk more?"

The hesitation in her normally confident tone made something flutter in Lila's chest. This wasn't CEO Frost issuing commands; this was just Serena, uncertain and hopeful.

"I'd like that," Lila replied, pressing a kiss to Serena's knuckles before releasing her hand. "Let me grab a few things from my cottage first. I'll meet you there."

The flash of disappointment across Serena's face was quickly masked, but Lila caught it anyway. "Of course. Whenever you're ready."

They parted at the junction of paths leading to staff quarters and guest villas, the brief separation feeling oddly significant after their reconnection.

Lila hurried to her cottage, her mind racing ahead.

She needed a few minutes alone to center herself, to be sure she was making choices from clarity rather than simply responding to the magnetic pull between them.

Inside her small sanctuary, she moved with purpose as she changed into a fresh sundress and brushed her teeth. The woman in the mirror looked back at her with eyes too bright and cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

"Eyes open," she reminded her reflection, taking a deep breath. "Heart open, but eyes open too."

The sudden rumble of thunder, closer now, hurried her steps. She grabbed a small overnight bag, adding essentials without overthinking the implication. Whatever happened tonight, she wouldn't be rushing back through the rain.

Lightning forked across the sky as Lila made her way along the path to Serena's villa, the humid air heavy. Fat droplets began to fall just as she reached the steps, sending her laughing to the door with quickened steps.

It opened before she could knock, revealing Serena in warm light. She'd changed, too, and was now wearing silk lounge pants and a simple top that somehow made her look both more casual and more elegant than usual.

"Perfect timing," Serena said, stepping back to welcome her in. "The storm's just starting."

As if punctuating her words, lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder that vibrated through the air. Rain began to fall in earnest, drumming against the villa's roof in a sudden deluge.

"I love a good storm," Lila said, setting her bag down and slipping off her sandals. "Especially when I'm not caught in it."

Serena smiled, her eyes lingering on Lila's form with undisguised appreciation. "I've opened some wine. Unless you'd prefer something else?"

"Wine sounds perfect."

The villa felt different from that morning—warmer somehow, despite being physically unchanged.

Serena had opened the terrace doors to let in the storm-cooled air, and soft lighting created pools of gold against the darkness.

Most notably, her laptop was closed and pushed to the side of the desk, work apparently set aside for the night.

They settled on the sofa facing the terrace, close enough that their knees nearly touched. Rain curtained the view beyond, transforming the world outside into impressionistic smudges of night and distant resort lights.

"I've been thinking," Serena said, handing Lila a glass of ruby-red wine. "About what you said earlier about making these days count."

"And?" Lila took a sip, the rich flavor blooming on her tongue.

"And I realized I've never actually asked what you want." Serena's fingers traced the rim of her own glass, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. "From these five days, I mean. I've been so focused on my own fears and boundaries that I haven't considered yours."

The question caught Lila off guard. So many people in her life—particularly romantic partners—had taken what she offered without asking what she needed in return. Sophie had elevated it to an art form.

"That's... a really good question," she said finally. "One I need to think about."

Lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating Serena in stark relief against the room's warm glow.

In that frozen moment, Lila caught a glimpse of genuine attentiveness in her expression—not the shrew listening of someone gathering information for future use, but the focused attention of someone who truly wanted to understand.

"I want honesty," Lila began slowly, organizing her thoughts. "Not just about facts, but about feelings, especially the scary ones, like when you're pulling away or when something feels too much."

Serena nodded, accepting this without defensiveness. "That's fair. What else?"

"I want..." Lila hesitated, then decided to embrace the same candor she was requesting. "I want to know parts of you that New York doesn't see. The woman behind the CEO mask."

Something vulnerable flickered in Serena's eyes. "Some days I'm not sure who that is anymore."

"I've seen glimpses," Lila said softly. "In the lagoon, when we were snorkeling. On the beach during morning yoga. When you laugh—really laugh, not the polite version you use at business functions."

The observation drew a genuine smile from Serena, tinged with something like wonder. "You've been paying attention."

"It's what I do," Lila shrugged. "And you're worth paying attention to."

Another thunderclap shook the villa, rain now driving horizontally against the windows. The storm had engulfed the island completely, creating a cocoon of sound and sensation that enveloped their private moment.

"What else do you want?" Serena asked, voice dropping to match the intimacy created by the storm's symphony.

Lila met her gaze directly. "I want memories worth keeping. Not just physical ones, though those too, but moments that matter. Conversations that change us. Experiences that leave marks."

Serena's eyes darkened at the admission, desire and something deeper mingling in their blue depths. "Not asking for much, are you?"

"Five days isn't much time," Lila countered with a small smile. "I'm not wasting a minute of it on anything less than meaningful."

The directness of her answer seemed to catch Serena by surprise. She set down her wine glass, turning more fully toward Lila on the couch.

"And what about after?" she asked, the question hanging between them like the charged air before lightning strikes. "When I go back to New York and you stay here?"

It was the question they'd been circling since the beginning, the inevitable separation that colored everything between them with bittersweetness. Lila had considered it from every angle, searching for the answer that felt most truthful.

"I think," she said carefully, "that we take whatever we've built in these five days and carry it with us. Not as a burden or a regret, but as proof that connection is possible, even between two people who never should have met."

Lightning flashed again, catching the gleam of moisture in Serena's eyes, though whether from emotion or a trick of light, Lila couldn't tell. But something in her expression softened, vulnerability replacing the careful control she typically maintained.

"I'd like that," Serena whispered.

Their fingers found each other on the couch between them, intertwining with natural ease. Outside, the storm continued, but in the villa, a different kind of energy was building—the quiet certainty of two people choosing each other, however briefly, with full awareness of what lay ahead.

The storm intensified, wind driving rain against the windows in rhythmic pulses. Inside, the charged silence between them grew until Lila could almost feel it on her skin, like electricity before lightning strikes.

"More wine?" Serena asked, her voice slightly rough at the edges.

Lila shook her head, setting her half-empty glass on the coffee table. "I think I've had enough."

The double meaning hung between them, unacknowledged but understood. Serena's eyes darkened as she leaned closer, the careful distance they'd maintained gradually dissolving.

"Lila," she said softly, just her name, but weighted with question and intent.

Instead of answering with words, Lila closed the space between them, bringing their lips together in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. Unlike their heated pool or their desperate beach encounters, this felt deliberate—a conscious choice rather than overwhelming impulse.