9. Nathan
The cabin door creaks open, and I’m struck by the how dark the place is. Musty, too. It’s clear that no one has been here in a while.
“Here,” Maria says, handing me the bag filled with the food and toiletries she picked up earlier. “Let’s get settled in.”
As we enter the small cabin, I notice shelves adorned with old photos showcasing Maria, her parents, and her sister. The nostalgia in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed, compelling me to ask about her family.
“You guys look really close in these pictures. Are they still around?” I inquire, genuinely curious.
Her smile falters for a moment before she answers. “My sister Kelsey and I are close, but she lives several hours away so I don’t get to see her as much as I’d like. My parents are divorced, and we’re all just kind of… scattered.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I say gently, offering a sympathetic glance. It’s obvious that this topic is a sore spot for her, so I decide not to pry any further.
“Thanks. Now, let’s get comfortable, huh?” She turns on a light.
“Come here much?”
“Kelsey and I came for a weekend earlier this year, but no. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you’re used to.”
My jaw drops. “What? Oh— no! I wasn’t trying to imply anything. It’s perfect. It’s wonderful. Thank you for bringing me here.”
She shrugs. “I’m going to check on the fridge and the generator. Plus the firewood. There should still be some out back.”
“What can I do?”
She taps a finger against her chin. “Heat up some of the soup I got?”
That’s it? Heat up the soup? Hell, I can do so much more than that!
As she busies herself with unpacking and organizing our supplies, I can’t help but feel like she thinks I’m a spoiled rich guy who doesn’t know how to do anything practical. Sure, I grew up with money, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely useless. Eager to surprise her, I scan the room for something to prove my worth.
Spotting a wood-burning stove in the corner, I decide to put my scouting skills to good use. Grabbing some logs and kindling, I arrange them expertly inside the stove, striking a match and igniting the fire. In no time, the flames begin to crackle and dance, casting a warm glow throughout the cabin.
“Wow, I didn’t know you could do that.” Maria laughs, clearly impressed as she eyes the roaring fire.
“Scouting wasn’t just for show,” I tell her with a grin. “It’s always good to know how to start a fire.”
Her brown eyes sparkle with admiration, and I find my chest swelling with pride. Winning her approval feels like a victory, and I can’t help but want to impress her even more. But for now, our focus needs to be on staying safe and figuring out our next steps.
“Thanks, Nathan,” she says sincerely. “I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” I reply, feeling an unexpected warmth in my heart that has nothing to do with the fire.
“So.” I stand up. “You grew up here?”
“In a house in town.” She nods. “This was just a place we came down to when we wanted to spend the weekend at the beach. My grandparents bought it when they got married.”
“How big is it?”
“Here.” She leads me to the closed doors. One bathroom and two bedrooms. Not big at all.
The thought of having her in another room with everything going on is more than a little nerve-racking. I’m not usually the protective type, but given the circumstances, I don’t want to let her out of my sight.
“Soup?” She turns on the stove and pours what looks like chicken noodle into a pan.
I would have thought I’d be too nervous right now to eat, but at the mention of food, my stomach growls. “Yes, please.”
While she heats up the soup, I check out the perimeter of the house. It’s surrounded by trees, but I can see the lights from the neighbors, who aren’t more than twenty yards away each. And there’s the ocean, too. When I stop walking I can hear its waves down the street, calling to me.
For extra precaution, I drive Maria’s car off the driveway and into the side yard. Here it’s invisible from the street, but if we need to, we could drive through a hole in the tree line, onto the neighbor’s driveway, and then onto the road.
Back inside, we settle down and eat. There’s a terrible tension in the air, and even though I was hungry, I feel in danger of vomiting the meal up.
Maria finds us some comfortable clothes in the closets — sweatpants, T-shirts, and sneakers — and we change out of our gala wear. We decide that it’s best to sleep in the living room, not wanting to risk being caught off guard. Maria claims the couch while I settle down on the floor, using a pillow and quilt from the trunk.
As we lie there, trying to get comfortable, Maria begins to speak. “Growing up in Montauk was pretty great, you know,” she says, her voice filled with nostalgia. “But now, it seems like my family is just… nothing anymore. My parents’ divorce really did a number on all of us.” She sighs.
It’s the most I’ve ever heard her say about her personal life, and it almost feels like getting close to a wild animal. I don’t want to move too quickly or say the wrong thing, for fear that she’ll spook and withdraw.
“Divorce can be tough.” I think about my own parents. “My parents are divorced too. Honestly, they should’ve done it sooner. My dad always prioritized his business above everything else, including my mom. No wonder she was unhappy.”
Maria doesn’t respond immediately, and I realize that I might have shared a bit too much about myself. I’m not used to opening up to people, especially not someone like her, who has managed to build such strong walls around herself.
From the day she came in for her first interview, I knew Maria was an independent woman — and probably a loner too. Over the last twelve months, I’ve seen that’s the case more and more. She doesn’t join the team for drinks on Wednesdays, and she always leaves office parties early. From the outside she’s a mystery, an enigma, but I’m fairly certain I have her figured out.
She’s like me. Hesitant to get close to anyone.
“Sounds like we both had our share of family issues, growing up,” she finally says, letting out a small chuckle. “Maybe that’s why we’re so good at keeping our hearts protected.”
Well, damn. It turns out she’s not the only obvious one. This woman has me pegged as well.
The vulnerability in her voice makes me want to comfort her, but I don’t know how to cut through the distance between us. So instead, I simply say, “Yeah, maybe.”
Silence settles over the cabin once more, and soon Maria’s breathing slows and deepens, signaling that she’s fallen asleep. I glance over at her peaceful face, wondering what dreams might be playing in her head.
Unable to sleep myself, I stare into the stove’s flames, their flickering light casting dancing shadows across the room. My thoughts drift between memories of my parents’ unhappy marriage and the enigma that is Maria, whose tenacious spirit and calm demeanor have me captivated.
With each passing moment, I find myself wanting to know her more — but for now, I can only watch the fire and wonder what tomorrow will bring.
The room is illuminated by the soft glow of the stove’s flames, and shadows shift on the walls and ceiling. Every so often, a log crackles and pops, adding to the quiet hum of the wind outside. Though Maria sleeps soundly on the couch, her face partially hidden beneath a blanket, I find myself unable to drift off.
My body may be exhausted, but my mind races, thoughts darting like fireflies in the night. The stakes I’ve left behind in New York weigh heavily on my mind — not just for myself, but for the future of the company. The unexpected turn of events that led us to this cabin has only intensified the pressure, making it hard to breathe, let alone sleep.
I glance at my wristwatch, its hands barely visible in the dim light. Time seems to crawl as if mocking me. I think of all the work I could be doing back at the office, the countless tasks left unfinished.
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, clenching my fists in frustration. My eyes flicker back to Maria, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. A strand of hair falls across her forehead, and I find myself wanting to brush it away.
“What are you doing, Nathan?” I ask myself, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts. It’s dangerous territory, allowing myself to entertain the idea of something more between us. This isn’t the time or place to explore such feelings.
“Focus,” I whisper, closing my eyes and trying to summon the image of a spreadsheet or a presentation — anything to distract myself from the woman sleeping mere feet away.
But no matter how hard I try, my thoughts keep straying back to her. It’s as if she’s become the sun and I’m a helpless planet caught in her gravitational pull. I can’t help but wonder, what if things were different? What if we weren’t boss and employee, but simply two people drawn together by something more than circumstance?
Would our hearts still be guarded? Or, together, faced with a night together like this, would we finally open up?
“Stop it,” I scold myself, my heart pounding in my chest. Such fantasies have no place in our current situation, and I need to keep my head clear if we’re going to find a way out of this mess.
I force myself to focus on the dancing flames of the stove, their hypnotic movement lulling me into a state of uneasy semiconsciousness. But even as I teeter on the edge of sleep, Maria’s presence remains ever-present in my thoughts, like a melody I can’t quite shake from my mind.
As the wind howls outside and the fire crackles with life, I resign myself to a restless night, my dreams haunted by the bittersweet taste of what might have been.