She closes the folder, eyes brimming. And for a moment, she just looks at me—really looks. Like she sees me, not just the man standing in front of her, but the cracks I tried to patch alone for five years.
“Thank you!” She leans forward and kisses me—soft, slow, reverent. Like she’s kissing the pain away from both of us.
When we break apart, I run my thumb over her cheek.
“I have one more surprise for today.”
She lifts a brow, suspicious and smiling. “Another?”
“It’s docked just down the path,” I nod. “Never really used it. Thought maybe we could take it out later. Catch some wind on the lake. Just you and me.”
Her smile grows. “I’d love that.”
“I know you do,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. “I remember… everything.”
She leans into the moment, then says softly, like waking from a dream.
“I have to let Adriana know I’m alive… and Greg, at the office.”
“Don’t worry about Greg,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s been informed that you’re working with me these days.”
“These days?” she asks, a faint crease between her brows. “How long are you planning on staying here? I have to…”
She trails off, but I know exactly what she’s thinking. Her flight. Her return. The real world clawing back in.
I cup her face gently.
“We’ll talk about it on the boat. Are you okay with that?”
She hesitates. Just a second. But then, she nods.
Still, as she looks at me, something flickers behind her eyes.
A quiet question. A truth she hasn’t decided if she’s ready to voice.
And as she turns toward the window—toward the lake glinting in the morning sun— I know this day might bring more than just calm waters.
It might change everything.
Chapter 16
BENEATH THE SURFACE
Like water smoothing stone, love wears away the jagged edges of pain
Della
The sky is impossibly clear, the sun shimmering on the water like it’s trying to tell me something—The nightmare is over. Look around you. Start living again.
I lean against the polished railing of the yacht, letting the breeze brush against my face. The lake is so still it feels like the world is holding its breath.
And then I glance at him.
Dorian’s at the helm, hands steady on the wheel, his white T-shirt pulling across his arms as the wind toys with his dark hair. Every time our eyes meet, there’s a glint there—soft and piercing all at once—that makes my heart stumble.
He smiles, and I feel it deep in my bones, like a ripple that stirs something I thought was long dead.
I’m a little annoyed that he looks so… relaxed. And damn attractive.
