Page 44 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

Serena accepted with a nod, her fingers brushing Lila's in the exchange. The brief contact sent a ripple of awareness through Lila's body, a reminder of how those same hands had tangled in her hair last night, drawing her closer with surprising hunger.

"About last night," Serena said suddenly, breaking the careful silence they'd maintained through the entire session.

Lila looked up, caught off-guard by the direct approach. She'd expected avoidance, not confrontation.

"Yes?" she prompted when Serena didn't immediately continue.

Serena took a measured sip of water, her composure clearly a practiced skill. "I want to be clear that it was... unprofessional on both our parts."

The words landed like stones, precisely placed and impossible to misinterpret. Lila felt something in her chest tighten, though she kept her expression neutral. "I understand."

"I don't regret it," Serena continued, her voice lowering slightly. "But it complicates an already complex situation."

Lila nodded, unsure whether to feel relieved by the lack of regret or disappointed by the clear boundary being established. "It does."

Serena recapped the water bottle with precision. "I'm leaving in eleven days and returning to a company in crisis and a board questioning my judgment."

The reminder hung between them; Serena's real life existed in Manhattan skyscrapers and boardrooms, not on secluded island beaches. Whatever had sparked between them was temporary by definition.

"I know," Lila said softly. She did know, had always known, yet the reality still stung with surprising sharpness.

"So perhaps it's best if we..." Serena hesitated, seeming to search for the right phrasing. "If we maintain professional boundaries going forward."

There it was. Exactly what Lila had expected, yet it still caught in her chest like a barb. The rational request from a woman who built empires on rationality, who couldn't afford entanglements with island wellness coaches.

"Of course," Lila agreed, her professional mask firmly in place despite the hollow feeling expanding beneath her ribs. "That makes perfect sense."

Relief flickered across Serena's face, though something else lingered in her eyes, something that might have been regret or might simply have been Lila's wishful thinking.

"I would still like to continue our sessions," Serena added, the statement carrying its own weight. "They've been... beneficial."

Coming from Serena, this qualified as effusive praise. Lila found a smile despite the complicated emotions churning inside her. "I'm glad to hear that. Same time tomorrow morning?"

Serena nodded as she rose with fluid grace. She hesitated, looking as if she might say something more, then seemed to think better of it. "Until tomorrow, then."

Lila watched as Serena walked away, her figure silhouetted against the morning sunshine. Only when she disappeared around the curve of the path did Lila allow her shoulders to drop, the professional façade slipping.

She sank onto the sand, pulling her knees to her chest as she stared out at the endless ocean. The morning light that had seemed so promising now felt harsh, illuminating the reality she'd tried to ignore: whatever had happened in the moonlight had been temporary magic, not the beginning of something that could last.

"Boundaries," she whispered to the waves, the word carrying both wisdom and heartache.

After all, wasn't that exactly what she'd promised herself this morning? To maintain her sense of self, to avoid the pattern with Sophie of giving too much?

Lila returned to her cottage feeling hollowed out, as if something essential had been scooped from her chest and scattered across the morning beach. The conversation with Serena replayed on loop in her mind, each word a careful brick in the wall being rebuilt between them.

"I don't regret it. But it complicates an already complex situation."

She kicked off her sandals at the door, leaving them in a jumbled heap rather than her usual neat arrangement. The small act of disorder felt like the only honest expression of her inner state.

"Perhaps it's best if we maintain professional boundaries going forward."

Of course it was best. Rational, sensible, appropriate. All the things Lila prided herself on being in her professional life. So why did doing the right thing feel like swallowing sand?

She moved through her small kitchen on autopilot, filling the kettle and taking down her favorite mug—the one with tiny sea turtles swimming around the rim, a gift from her brother during his visit last spring. The familiar routine of making tea provided structure when her thoughts refused to settle.

"It's for the best," she told the empty room, saying aloud what her rational mind already knew.

Serena was leaving in eleven days and returning to her real life in Manhattan, to board meetings and crisis management and the empire she'd built. Whatever had sparked between them—chemistry, curiosity, momentary madness—would fizzle against the hard reality of geography and circumstance.

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