Page 68 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

The simple acknowledgment warmed Lila more than the tropical sun overhead. She reached for her water bottle, suddenly needing a moment to collect herself. This growing connection between them felt simultaneously fragile and powerful—like holding something precious that might shatter if gripped too tightly or slip away if held too loosely.

"I've been thinking about what you said during yoga the other day," Serena continued, her voice taking on a more thoughtful quality. "About balance. About giving and taking."

"What about it?"

"You mentioned it was what went wrong with your ex. That the relationship became unbalanced." Serena arranged the remaining mango slices with precise movements that betrayed her slight nervousness. "I'd like to understand more about that, if you're willing to share."

The request caught Lila off guard. She'd expected to be the one asking personal questions, not answering them. But there was genuine interest in Serena's expression, not just polite conversation.

"It's not a very unique story," Lila began, tracing patterns in the condensation on her water bottle. "Sophie and I met at a fundraiser in San Francisco. She was this brilliant environmental lawyer, passionate about her causes, charismatic in a way that drew everyone to her. Including me."

Serena listened with surprising attentiveness, her usual distractions—phone, mental calculations, impatience—nowhere to be seen.

"Things were good at first. Great, actually. We had similar values, complementary strengths. I supported her work, she appreciated my perspective." Lila smiled faintly at the memoriesof those early days. "But gradually, almost imperceptibly, things shifted."

"How so?" Serena prompted gently when Lila paused.

"I started giving more than I was receiving. My schedule was always the one that adjusted, my needs were always the ones that could wait." Lila picked up a piece of bread, breaking it into small pieces without eating it. "I'd drop everything when she had a crisis, but when I wanted to pursue my own training or career opportunities, they were somehow never the priority."

Understanding flickered in Serena's eyes. "You became support staff rather than an equal partner."

Lila laughed. "Exactly. That's exactly what happened."

"When did you realize it?"

Lila's smile faded. "Too late, honestly. I'd already given up a job opportunity to accommodate her career move. Already postponed my specialized training because we 'couldn't afford it.'" The old bitterness surfaced briefly before she pushed it back. "Then I found out she'd been using our joint savings to wine and dine a politically connected prosecutor she'd started seeing—someone who could advance her career better than I could."

Serena's expression darkened. "That's not just inequality. That's betrayal."

"Yes," Lila agreed, touched by Serena's immediate understanding. "The worst part was realizing she'd never seen us as equals to begin with. I was useful, convenient, supportive—but ultimately dispensable when something better came along."

A soft breeze rippled across the lagoon, creating patterns on the previously mirror-still surface. Lila watched the concentric circles spread and fade, a visual reminder of how seemingly small disturbances could transform calm waters.

"So I left," she continued, her voice stronger now. "Packed what mattered and walked away. No arguments, no second chances. I just... removed myself from the equation."

"And came here," Serena finished for her.

"Eventually, yes. After a few months of couch-surfing and questioning every decision I'd ever made." Lila looked up, meeting Serena's gaze directly. "I promised myself I'd never be in an unequal relationship again. Never pour myself into someone who saw me as convenient rather than essential."

The words hung between them, their implications for whatever was developing between them impossible to ignore. Serena's expression grew thoughtful, almost concerned.

"Do you see this—us—heading toward the same pattern?" she asked finally.

Lila appreciated the honesty too much to offer anything less in return. "I don't know. Sometimes I worry about it. You're leaving in nine days. Your life is elsewhere. Those facts alone create a certain... imbalance."

Serena nodded slowly, accepting the truth without defensiveness. "And then there's the obvious power differential. My position, my resources, my..." She gestured vaguely at herself, encompassing her CEO status and everything that came with it.

"That matters less to me than you might think," Lila said. "I've never been impressed by titles or bank accounts."

"No, you wouldn't be." Serena's smile held unexpected warmth. "It's one of the things I find most refreshing about you."

"Just one?" Lila teased, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere.

"One of many," Serena replied, her gaze dropping briefly to Lila's lips before returning to her eyes. "But the imbalance remains, regardless of how we feel about it."

The acknowledgment of their situation—clear-eyed and honest—touched Lila deeply. This wasn't Sophie's manipulation or false promises. This was two adults recognizing thecomplexities of their connection without pretending they didn't exist.

"Yes, it does," Lila agreed. "But awareness is the first step toward balance. We can't change the circumstances, but we can be conscious of how they affect us."

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