Page 56 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

Like relationships, Serena realized. Not fixed points but ongoing negotiations with shifting conditions. The metaphor wasn't lost on her.

"Now reach toward the horizon," Lila continued, extending her arms with palms open. "Like you're offering something to the ocean."

"Or asking it for something," Serena murmured, the words surfacing from some unknown place inside her.

Lila's smile deepened. "Exactly. Yoga isn't just about holding positions. It's a conversation between your body and the world around it."

They flowed through a series of poses that felt both familiar and entirely new in this setting. The sound of waves created a natural rhythm for their movements, the salt air filled their lungs with each breath, and the occasional splash of water against their feet added an element of playfulness to the practice.

As they moved into a more challenging balance pose, Serena found herself wobbling slightly on the uneven sand. Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing against Lila's arm to steady herself.

The contact sent a jolt through her system—a reminder of their night in the pool, of their kiss on Lila's porch. Lila turned toward her, steady as ever despite the shifting sand, and caught Serena's hand in hers.

"It's okay to need support sometimes," she said quietly. "Even the strongest people lose their balance."

The gentleness in her voice threatened to undo something in Serena, some carefully maintained barrier between her public self and her private truths. She tightened her grip on Lila's hand, allowing herself to be steadied both physically and otherwise.

"I'm not very good at asking for help," she admitted, the confession feeling monumental despite its simplicity.

"I've noticed," Lila replied with a teasing smile that softened the observation. "But you're better at it than you think."

They completed the session with their mats side by side, close enough that Serena could feel the warmth radiating from Lila's skin. As they moved through the final stretches, their bodies often brushed against each other—innocent contact that nonetheless felt charged with meaning.

When they finally settled into the closing meditation, Lila surprised her by reaching across the small space between them and taking her hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, as if they'd been doing this for years rather than days.

"Five breaths together," Lila said softly. "Just feeling this connection."

Serena closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of Lila's palm against hers. She could feel both their pulses, slightly mismatched rhythms gradually synchronizing with each shared breath. The simplicity of the contact felt more intimate than the heated kisses they'd exchanged. More deliberate. More present.

When she opened her eyes, Lila was watching her with an expression that made Serena's breath catch—open and warm and full of something too complicated to name.

"Thank you for practicing with me," Lila said, the traditional closing transformed into something more personal by the way she continued holding Serena's hand.

"Thank you for teaching me," Serena replied, meaning far more than just the yoga.

They remained that way for a moment, neither quite willing to break the connection. The ocean continued its endless conversation with the shore, waves building and breaking in a rhythm that had remained unchanged for millennia. Against that timeless backdrop, eleven days didn't seem like nearly enough.

But it was what they had. And Serena was beginning to understand that time—like everything else of value—was measured in quality, not just quantity.

"Would you like to stay for a while?" Lila asked as they gathered their mats, her voice casual though something in her eyes suggested the question was anything but. "The tide's still going out. It's a perfect time for walking along the shoreline."

The digital calendar that usually ran Serena's life flashed automatically through her mind—meetings, calls, emails that demanded attention. But she'd already rearranged her morning, and for once, the thought of spreadsheets and strategy documents held less appeal than the woman standing before her with sand clinging to her feet.

"I'd like that," Serena said, surprised by how easily the acceptance came.

They left their mats and bags at the edge of the beach, walking barefoot along the wet sand where the waves had recently retreated. The morning sun warmed Serena's shoulders through her fitted top, a pleasant sensation that matched the unfamiliar lightness in her chest.

"I want to know more about Vivienne Blackwood," Lila said after they'd walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. "If you're willing to talk about it."

Serena glanced sideways, surprised by the direct question. Most people in her life had learned to approach sensitive subjects with careful indirection. But Lila wasn't most people.

"That's not typically vacation conversation," Serena replied, testing the boundaries of this new honesty between them.

"Neither is anything else about you," Lila countered with a smile that softened the observation. "You don't strike me as someone who does typical vacations."

Serena laughed despite herself, the sound still unfamiliar to her own ears. "Fair point. Though this hardly qualifies as a vacation. More like a strategic retreat."

"Is that what you told your board? That you were making a strategic retreat?"

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