I've been fortunate. Fortunate? Eleanor laughed. Darling, you're the CEO of a billion-dollar tech company. That's not fortune, that's brilliant.
What's a CEO? Mia asked. It means she's the boss of a very big company. Lucas explained quietly. Mia's eyes went wide.
Like a superhero? Victoria's expression softened slightly. Not quite. More like someone who makes a lot of decisions and drinks too much coffee. Oh.
Mia considered this. My dad drinks a lot of coffee, too, but he's not a superhero. He fixes trucks. Mia. I'm a diesel mechanic, Lucas said.
At a fleet maintenance company. Honest work. Richard said approvingly. Good, solid trade. Lucas heard the subtext.
Not like what you could have been. Margaret jumped in quickly. And he's wonderful with Mia, a natural father. Victoria's hand tightened on her fork. Speaking of which, Eleanor said.
Where's Mia's mother, if you don't mind my asking? The table went quiet. Lucas set down his knife. She's not in the picture. It's just me and Mia.
Has been since she was born, Margaret added. Lucas has done an incredible job raising her on his own. I'm sure. Eleanor's smile was kind. That can't have been easy.
We manage. Mia tugged his sleeve. Can I be excused? I'm full. Did you eat your vegetables?
She showed him her plate. Half the green beans were gone. Good enough. All right. Go play upstairs, quietly.
Okay? She scrambled down and ran off. The adults resumed eating. Richard and Eleanor fell into conversation about old college stories. Margaret asked about Eleanor's work, something in corporate law.
Lucas focused on his food and tried not to look at Victoria. He failed. She sat perfectly straight, movements precise and controlled. Every inch the billionaire CEO. Polished, professional, untouchable.
Nothing like the girl he'd known. That Victoria had been fierce and funny and completely unfiltered. She'd laughed too loud and sworn too much and had opinions about everything. She'd dragged him to protests and poetry readings and dive bars. Made him try things he'd never have tried on his own.
She'd been alive. This woman across the table was a stranger. Lucas? His mother's voice cut through his thoughts. I asked if you'd like more potatoes.
No, thanks. I'm good. Margaret frowned. You've barely eaten. Just tired from the drive.
You should get some rest then. It's been a long day for everyone. She stood, already gathering plates. Why don't you and Victoria head upstairs? Eleanor and I will clean up.
I can help. Nonsense. You're a guest. Go. Relax.
There was no arguing with Margaret Hayes in hostess mode. Lucas pushed back from the table. Victoria did the same. They walked upstairs in silence, side by side, but miles apart. The bedroom felt smaller with both of them in it.
Victoria went straight to her suitcase, pulling out pajamas and toiletries. I'm taking a shower first. Fine. She disappeared into the attached bathroom. A moment later, he heard water running.
Lucas sat on the edge of the bed and tried to think about anything other than Victoria Hale naked in his shower. He failed at that, too. Mia poked her head in. Dad? Hey, kiddo.
What's up? The lady downstairs, Victoria, is she nice? Why do you ask? She seems sad. Out of the mouths of children.
I think she's just tired, like us. Oh. Mia climbed onto the bed. Do you know her? Lucas's throat tightened.
Sort of. A long time ago. Were you friends? We were everything. Yeah.
He said quietly. We were friends. Cool. Mia yawned. I'm sleepy.
Then get to bed. Brush your teeth first. Okay. She hugged him tight. Love you, Dad.
Love you, too, sweetheart. She padded off to the loft. Lucas heard her footsteps overhead, then the sound of running water from her bathroom. The shower in his room shut off. Victoria emerged 10 minutes later in flannel pants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders.
She looked younger like this. More like the person he remembered. She caught him staring. "What?" "Nothing.
Bathroom's free?" "All yours." He grabbed his own stuff and escaped. By the time Lucas finished his shower, Victoria was already in bed. She'd built a wall of pillows down the center, a physical barrier that somehow made the whole situation worse.
He climbed in on his side and turned off the lamp. Darkness. The sound of wind and snow against the windows. Their breathing too loud in the quiet. "Lucas."
His heart stopped. "Yeah?" "This doesn't change anything." "I know." "I mean it.
We're not—this isn't—" "I know, Victoria." Silence. Then softer, "I just needed you to know that. Okay?" More silence.
Lucas closed his eyes and prayed for sleep. It didn't come. He could feel her there, just inches away on the other side of the pillow wall. Could hear every shift of the blankets, every breath. Seven years.
Seven years of distance, of silence, of pretending she didn't exist. And now here they were, back where they'd started. Except everything was different. He had Mia now, a life built on responsibility and routine. Victoria had her empire, her success, her carefully controlled world.
They were strangers. But lying there in the dark, listening to her breathe, Lucas felt the same pull he'd always felt. The same magnetic force that had drawn them together in the first place. It terrified him. "Are you asleep?"
Victoria's voice was barely a whisper. "No." "Me, neither." Pause. "The storm's getting worse.
Yeah, we might be stuck here longer than 2 days. Lucas opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling. Probably. Great. The word was hollow.
Just great. He almost laughed, almost. Could be worse. How? Good question.
He didn't have an answer. They lay there, not sleeping, not talking, just existing in the same space, together but separate, connected by history and divided by choice. Outside the storm raged on. Inside, something else was building, something neither of them was ready to acknowledge, but it was there. And Lucas knew, with a certainty that made his chest ache, that 2 days in this cabin with Victoria Hale was going to break him.