Chapter 10
The wooden cabin smelled of cedar, old paper, and pine needles—a clean, grounding scent that felt miles away from the chemical lavender potpourri of Eleanor’s guest room. Situated on the quiet, mist-shrouded shores of Crystal Lake, the cabin was modest in size but rich in warmth. Sunlight poured through large front windows that overlooked the calm water, where a single blue heron stood motionless near the reedy shoreline. Clara sat on the porch rocking chair, holding a sleeping Leo while watching Connor unload the last of their duffel bags from the trunk of the car.
“Your father had an incredible eye,” Clara said, watching Connor carry a box of books toward the front steps. “How did Eleanor never find out about this place?”
Connor set the box down and wiped his brow, smiling as he looked out over the sparkling water. “She hated nature, for one thing. She thought anything outside a manicured lawn was messy and uncontrolled—ironic, considering how chaotic her internal life was. Dad bought this place as a writing retreat before I was born, and after he passed, he transferred the deed into an independent land trust that she couldn’t touch.”
Clara stood up carefully, not wanting to wake Leo, and walked over to join Connor on the porch. She leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling the solid strength of his frame beneath his light blue button-down shirt. “It’s peaceful here, Connor. Too peaceful, almost. I keep waiting for someone to knock on the door and tell us we’re breaking a rule.”
May you like
“No one is going to knock,” Connor promised, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. “The only rules here are the ones we make together. We can sleep in, we can eat cake for breakfast, and nobody will ever tell you how to wash a dish again.”
That evening, as the sun dipped below the tree line and painted the sky in shades of amber and violet, they celebrated a delayed first birthday for Leo on the wooden deck. There were no pink balloons, no screaming relatives, and no oppressive supervision. Just a small, simple vanilla cupcake with a single candle flickering brightly in the evening breeze. Clara watched as Leo smeared frosting across his blue shirt with a joyful laugh, while Connor captured the moment on his phone without a shadow of anxiety in his posture.
