His words touched something deep within me. “Thank you, Ethan,” I replied, my voice full of emotion. “It really is beautiful.”
As Ethan pointed to an old wooden bench on the dock, a wave of nostalgia seemed to wash over him. “Those benches have been here for as long as I can remember. My dad and I used to come here when I was a kid. We’d sit and talk for hours. Sometimes fishing, sometimes just enjoying the silence.”
His words hung in the air, rich with the warmth of cherished memories, and a pang of envy tugged at my heart—an unexpected ache that reminded me of how different my childhood had been.
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, my voice soft, though a flicker of sadness touched my words. I could see why this place meant so much to him, why it was woven into the fabric of his life.
But, as I listened to him speak about the closeness he’d shared with his father, I couldn’t help but compare it to my own experiences. There were no places like this with my father. No secret spots where we’d spent time together. No warm memories of long talks or shared silences. My father had been distant and cold, always driven by business and work. He rarely took time off and, when he did, it wasn’t to spend it with me or my mother. He was a man of schedules and goals, someone who saw time as a commodity, not something to be shared or savored.
The realization stirred a mix of emotions within me. Regret, sadness, and perhaps a touch of resentment. I quickly pushed those feelings aside, not wanting them to taint the moment with Ethan. This place was special to him, and I wanted to honor that, even if it reminded me of what I’d never had.
“I can see why this place means so much to you,” I said.
Ethan looked at me, his eyes searching mine as if he could sense the undercurrent of emotions I was trying to hide. “It’s where I come to sort through things. I guess I wanted to bring you here because . . . well, you’re becoming important to me, Vinnie. And I wanted to share something meaningful.”
His words made my heart race and, as I looked into his eyes, the vulnerability of the moment washed over me. The intensity in his gaze made my cheeks flush and my stomach flutter. “Ethan, you have no idea how much this means to me. Sharing this place, your special place . . .”
In that moment, I realized something important—Ethan didn’t need to know every detail of my past to understand me. He just needed to be here, with me, in this moment. And that was more than enough. That thought warmed me as we reached the dock, and he helped me onto the bench. As we sat down, the silence enveloped us and, for a moment, we simply absorbed the beauty around us.
Ethan’s hand tightened around mine, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine. The simple touch ignited a spark between us, and I felt heat rising, the air around us thickening with unspoken emotions. His gaze locked onto mine, so intense it made it hard to breathe.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispered, leaning in closer. The space between us diminished, his breath warm against my face, and the worldseemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us suspended in a moment charged with an undeniable pull.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “Me too, Ethan. I’m really glad I’m here.” His eyes flicked to my lips, and I saw the longing in his gaze, a reflection of the desire swirling within me.
My heart raced, each beat echoing the yearning that seemed to swell and expand, filling the space between us. I could see the same mixture of hesitation and desire in his eyes, as if he was weighing the moment, deciding whether to give in, or to hold back. His warm hand in mine, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on my skin, made my whole body tingle with anticipation.
Slowly, I leaned in. The cool breeze brushed against my flushed cheeks, but all I could focus on was Ethan—his steady breath, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and the way his eyes softened as he looked at me. The air was thick with promise; a delicate thread ready to weave into something profound and beautiful.
Ethan hesitated, his gaze returning to mine, full of emotion. “Vinnie, I . . .”
Before he could finish, a sudden rustling in the nearby bushes startled us both, shattering the moment. We turned in unison to see a family of ducks waddling out from the underbrush, heading toward the water. The sight was so unexpected that we both burst into laughter, the tension easing as the ducks made their way to the lake.
“Guess we’re not the only ones who enjoy this place,” Ethan said, his smile warm and full of amusement.
I chuckled, disappointment washing over me. “Looks like it.”
Ethan squeezed my hand, a silent promise that our moment wasn’t over. “You know,” he said with a teasing glint in his eye, “at this point, it seems like imperfect timing is our thing. Maybe we should just expect it.”
“Maybe it’s just the universe’s way of keeping us on our toes,” I laughed, trying to brush off the lingering tension, though part of me couldn’t help but wish we hadn’t been interrupted.
Ethan smiled at that, his eyes filled with affection. “Well, I’m not giving up that easily. Come on, let’s walk around a bit more.”
We strolled along the shore, the gravel crunching softly beneath our feet, and I came to the sudden realization that I was falling for Ethan a little more with each step. The way he effortlessly blended humor with sincerity, the warmth in his touch, and the way he made me feel seen and valued—it was all becoming more than I’d expected, more than I’d dared to hope for.
And though the moment had been interrupted, I wondered what he’d been about to say before the ducks startled us. The way his voice had softened, the intensity in his eyes—it was as though he was on the verge of something important, something that could change everything. The thought lingered in my mind, making me both curious and anxious, as I tried to piece it together.
We approached a small wooden rowboat tied to the dock and Ethan’s eyes lit up with excitement. “How about a quick boat ride? It’s pretty peaceful out there.”
I hesitated, eyeing the boat sceptically. Though charming, it looked old and worn, with weathered wood and chipped paint. The thought of venturing out onto the water in such a rickety vessel made me uneasy. “Are you sure it’s safe? That boat looks like it’s about to fall apart.”
Ethan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I promise, it’s sturdier than it looks. This was my dad’s boat, and he and I used to take it out all the time. I’ll keep you safe, I swear.” His reassuring smile melted away my apprehension, and I nodded, despite my initial reluctance.
“Alright, if you say so,” I agreed.
“Trust me,” he winked.
Ethan untied the rowboat from the dock, the old rope creaking as it loosened, and he stepped in first, holding out his hand to help me aboard. The boat rocked gently beneath our weight as I carefully stepped in, trying not to think about the small gaps between the wooden planks. Once we were both settled, Ethan took the oars in hand and began rowing us out onto the calm waters. The lake’s surface was like glass, reflecting the beautiful colors of the sun. I leaned back, soaking in the beauty of the moment, and the warmth of Ethan’s presence.
