The path widens, curving around a large oak tree, and then the view opens up ahead.
The trees fall away, revealing a wide, sun-drenched clearing paved with rugged flagstones.A low stone wall curves along the edge of the bluff, its built-in benches facing the drop.
I step forward, stopping just short of the edge.Lake Mendota unfolds like a wide sheet of hammered blue silk, stretching toward the familiar cityscape on the opposite shore.The white dome of the State Capitol holds center stage against the hazy morning sky.The sheer scale of it pushes back the chaos coiling inside me, leaving only quiet awe.A gentle breeze rises from the water, cool against my face, carrying the clean scent of the lake.
I stand there, breathing.
Letting the view hold me.
A moment later, Matthew stands beside me.He follows my gaze out across the sparkling water.
I turn my head to look at him.Sunlight catches his dark waves, making them gleam.His profile is outlined against the blue of the lake and sky.Firm jaw, straight nose, gaze distant.There’s a stillness about him.A solidity as profound as the landscape itself.In this peaceful setting, he is an extension of the beauty surrounding us.The embodiment of the calm my heart craves.
“Thank you for bringing me here.”My words are a whisper.
A slow smile curves his lips.It’s not merely kind; it’s tinged with a shared understanding that needs no words.As the smile reaches his eyes, they light up, their green mirroring the leaves overhead.
He holds my gaze.A silent acceptance suspended in the peaceful air.
TWENTY EIGHT
WIND SIGHS IN the trees, and the distant cry of gulls replaces the city’s thrum.We settle on the curved stone bench.The view is a wide expanse of rippling water, anchored by the white dome of the Capitol on the far shore.
I bask in the sun’s warmth, cup between my hands.Matthew leans forward, elbows on knees, cup cradled in his palms.The breeze ruffles his dark hair.He gazes straight ahead, his expression thoughtful.
I nod at the paper bag between us.“You go there often?”
Matthew turns his head,, a playful light returning to his eyes.“Why?”He chuckles low.“Jealous?”
I roll my eyes.“Please.”I take a pointed sip.“My coffee’s way better, and you know it.”
His chuckle rumbles in his chest.
“Besides,” I add.“We haven’t even tried whatever is hiding in there.”
“Ah.Yes.”
He reaches for the bag.Foil rustles as he pulls out two packages.He peels one back, revealing a large, flaky croissant filled with fluffy omelette and strips of crispy bacon.The savory scent instantly makes my mouth water.
“Looks great,” I say, accepting the sandwich and a napkin.“Thanks.”
“No longer hating on Frost and Froth, I see.”Amusement dances in his eyes.
“Hate is a strong word.”I take a bite.
The flaky pastry gives way to the warm mix of egg and bacon.
Damn it.This is actually good.
I chew slowly, avoiding his gaze, fighting the smile that wants to break through.
I swallow and let out a dramatic sigh.“Alright.Fine.”I glance at him.“This tastes really good.Happy?You and your Frost and Froth win.”
Matthew finishes his bite, the corner of his mouth twitching.“Not trying to win,” he says softly.“I’m just happy you like it.”
“I do.”I nod.“In fact, I’m thinking of adding it to our menu.We already make the freshest croissants.It would be so easy to turn them into breakfast sandwiches.I know our customers would love it.”
“Happy to inspire a new breakfast item on your menu,” he says, sounding pleased.“Will you name it after me?”
