Chapter 95: A Weekend Getaway
Lisa’s POV
I should have known from the way Leo kept looking my way all morning—those quick, furtive little smiles that he thought I never noticed, the way he hummed to himself when he was putting away the dishes after breakfast. There was a soft but plainly excited energy about him. And yet I still found myself blinking in surprise when he suddenly appeared in the doorway, grinning sheepishly and carrying an overnight bag.
“Pack a bag,” he instructed bluntly. “We’re leaving.”
I almost laughed. “We’re leaving? Where are we going, exactly?”
“That’s the surprise.” He leaned against the casing, his arms crossed as he observed too pleased with himself. “You trust me, don’t you?”
The question wasn’t all that playful — not really. There was something raw under this, something that hit my chest and cradled me. I smiled, slow and sure.
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
His relief was palpable and immediate, brightening his whole face. And that was enough to make me walk to the closet without asking any more questions.
—--------
With the late afternoon sun sliding across the windshield, we drove out of the city an hour later. The engine’s hum and soft music taking us into a cocoon of calm. Leo kept one hand on the wheel, and with his other hand, he would occasionally brush against mine—touching, squeezing, brushing. And I guess that was kind of a conversation all its own, that conversation of warmth and silent adoration.
‘Are you going to give me any clues?’ I said, folding my arms, but smiling.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Nope.”
Not even a little bit?”
It’s romantic,” he at last said. “It’s quiet. And... somewhere I hope you’ll love.”
My heart flipped — literally flipping, as if I was in one of those clichéd romance novels, and it felt like I was living it and the guy next to me was my husband. My husband. It was a word that felt heavy for years. Now it felt like possibility.
Three hours later, he turned off onto a narrow road.
A lakefront cabin, the glow of warm light escaping through the windows, was only a few steps away from the edge of the water.
“Leo,” I said breathlessly. “This is beautiful.”
His smile was timid. “Yeah? You like it?”
“I love it.”
He was silent for a moment. He simply looked at me with a face I still didn’t know how to hold fully—softness, gratitude, and something else, deeper, quieter, but growing every day.
—-------
Inside, it was even more gorgeous. The living room featured a fireplace, a fat beige rug, and floor-to-ceiling glass that opened out onto the glimmering lake. The smell of pine wood and heat embraced me immediately.“This is perfect,”
“Good” he said as he set our bags down. “Because I reserved the entire weekend.”
I turned to him. “Leo…”
He came closer, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I want us to have time, just us, no work. No people. No pressure. Just Breathing.”
Something within me thawed in a way I never knew was possible.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
He kissed my forehead. “ ’Come on. Let’s watch the sunset before it’s gone.”
—--------
We were on the tiny wood porch in his lap, bundled under a quilt, his arm draped across my shoulders and neck. The sky bled deep oranges and purples, and the lake reflected every hue. Neither one of us said anything for a long time. We don’t need to.
I had my head on his shoulder. His thumb skims small absent circles across my upper arm. Feeling like something inside him was calming down as the two of them slid further into each other — like he was finally allowing himself to be fully here with him, no hesitation, no fear.
“In the old days, I used to occupy a spot like this with my family,” he muttered softly. “Back in the day. This was the only place where everyone looked at ease. Happy.”
The light softened his features as I raised my head. “Did you miss it?”
“Yes,” he admitted. ‘And I wanted to share that feeling with you.”
“You’re giving me memories,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That I… want to keep.”
His breath caught, for just a moment. “So do I.”
Later, after dinner—just pasta Leo had been determined to make, having almost burnt the garlic—we curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace.
He traced slow, comforting circles on my arm with his fingers and I was suddenly conscious of everything about him, the warmth of his body, the intimacy of the moment, and the way he looked at me as though I was something precious.
“You’re quiet,” he said softly.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“This,” I admitted. “Us. How much different it is. How easy.”
Leo exhaled softly. “I’ve wanted this ease for a long time. I just… did not know how to get to you then.”
Guilt flared within me, fleeting but intense. “I wasn’t easy to reach.”
“We both made mistakes.” He cradled my cheek. “But we’re here now, and that's what matters.”
I longed for his touch. “I don’t want to lose this, Leo.”
“You won’t,” he said, his voice calm but emotional. “I’m not going anywhere. ”
The assurance in his voice — soft, earnest, unshakeable — sunk to the core of me, below my very bones.
We’re snuggled on the couch again - I put my head on his chest and hold his heart while he breathes steady, warm breaths. The fire popped softly. Out on the lake, the moon was mirrored.
This all — this connection, this calm — seemed to be some sacred thing. Something earned.
Something I wanted to keep
—-----
The night air was cool.
Leo took my hand. “Lisa?”
“Hmm?”
“I'm… really happy,” he whispered.
I wrapped my hand around his. “I am too.”
And so it was. Completely, thoroughly, astonishingly true.
This weekend was more than a break.
So this was the start of us — free and open and whatever lay ahead.