Page 46 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

"Serena isn't Sophie." The defensive words came out sharper than she intended.

"No, she's not," Marcus agreed, surprising her. "She's actually being more honest about her limitations. But that doesn't change the fact that you're falling into the same role: the understanding one, the one who sacrifices, the one who accepts crumbs instead of asking for bread."

The observation stung precisely because it held truth. Lila stood abruptly, moving to the window where morning light poured across her small herb garden. "What exactly are you suggesting? That I demand more from a woman who's leaving in less than two weeks? That I ignore professional ethics and pursue a client? That I set myself up for more heartbreak when she inevitably leaves?"

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "I'm suggesting you protect yourself, Lila. I watched you put yourself back together after Sophie. It took months. Hell, it's why you stayed on this island in the first place."

"I know that," Lila said quietly. "Why do you think I agreed with her this morning? Why do you think I'm not fighting for... whatever this might be?" She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not stupid, Marcus. I know the risks."

"Knowing and feeling are different things," he pointed out gently. "And you feel things deeply. It's what makes you great at your job. It's also what makes you vulnerable to exactly this kind of situation."

Lila couldn't argue with that assessment. She'd always led with her heart, always believed in connection and possibility. Even after Sophie, even knowing the risks of caring too much, she couldn't seem to build the protective walls others maintained so effortlessly.

"Look, just promise me you'll be careful," Marcus said, standing to join her by the window. "Professional boundaries exist for a reason; they protect both sides."

"I know." She leaned her head against his shoulder, grateful for the simple comfort of friendship. "We've already agreed to keep things professional from now on. It was a one-time thing. A moment of island madness."

Marcus looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. "Alright. Just remember, she's not the only one who gets to set the terms here. Your needs matter too."

"I'll remember." Lila straightened, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Now go away. I need to shower before my next session."

"Bossy," Marcus complained, though he moved toward the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, turning back with an expression of reluctant support. "For what it's worth, I get it. She's impressive, I'll give her that. Just don't confuse impressive with good for you."

After he left, Lila stood motionless in the center of her cottage, his parting words echoing in the quiet space. Wasthat what she was doing? Confusing impressiveness with compatibility? Mistaking attraction for something deeper?

She moved to her bathroom on autopilot, turning the shower to its hottest setting. As steam filled the small space, she caught sight of herself in the mirror—eyes too bright, cheeks flushed, hair escaping its braid in wild tendrils. She looked like exactly what she was: a woman caught between knowing better and wanting anyway.

"Professional boundaries," she reminded her reflection, the words a mantra rather than a conviction.

She stepped under the hot spray, letting water sluice over her body as if it might wash away the confusion along with the sand. The physical sensations anchored her—water pressure against her skin, heat loosening tight muscles, the clean scent of island-made soap.

Her thoughts refused to settle, circling between Marcus's warnings and memories of Serena in the moonlight, between professional ethics and personal longing. Their shared intimacy had happened. Pretending otherwise wouldn't erase it from her body's memory or untangle the connection that had been forming since Serena first arrived.

As she dressed for her next session, Lila tried to focus on practicalities. Eleven days. That's all the time Serena had left on the island. Less than two weeks to navigate this complicated territory between them and maintain professional distance while her body remembered what it felt like to be pressed against Serena's in the warm pool water.

She could do this. She could respect the boundaries Serena had established—the same boundaries her own professional ethics demanded. She could continue guiding Serena's wellness journey without letting her personal feelings interfere.

It was the right choice. The sensible choice. The ethical choice.

So why did it hurt so much?

The question followed her out the door, riding her shoulders as she headed toward the main resort where Mr. Peterson would be waiting for his morning hike. She forced her thoughts toward the day ahead, toward the responsibilities that had once seemed so fulfilling.

Eleven days. She just needed to maintain professional boundaries for eleven more days.

After that, the choice would be made for her, and she wouldn't have to wonder anymore about roads not taken or possibilities unexplored.

After that, Serena would be gone, and the whole thing would feel like nothing more than a dream, the kind that leaves you reaching for something that was never really there in the first place.

By mid-afternoon, Lila had almost convinced herself that everything was fine. She'd guided Mr. Peterson through a successful hike up to the island's eastern lookout point, led Mrs. Abelman's meditation session without her thoughts drifting to silver-streaked hair and moonlit pools, and even managed to laugh at Kai's jokes during the staff lunch without feeling the weight of his knowing glances.

Professional. Focused. Present. Everything a wellness coach should be.

If her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, if her laugh sounded slightly hollow even to her own ears, no one seemed to notice. Or at least, they were kind enough not to mention it.

The afternoon meditation room offered blessed solitude after hours of performance. Lila moved through the space with practiced ease, adjusting cushions and lighting candles for her next session. The familiar ritual of preparation usually centered her, but today her movements felt mechanical, disconnected from the mindfulness she tried to embody.

Marcus's warnings echoed in her head, mingling with memories of Serena's touch, creating a dissonance that made true presence nearly impossible.

---