Fireside Promises
Ididn’t know marriage could feel like this. Soft. Filled with love. Sacred.
Every morning I wake up with Calil’s arm heavy over my waist and I swear I fall in love with him all over again.
We found our rhythm without even trying.
Date nights on the calendar no matter how busy Soleil’s Sanctuary gets.
Phones down after nine. Therapy check-ins when we need them.
Grief honored. Joy prioritized. Us first. Always.
Soleil’s Sanctuary is thriving in ways I once only whispered about.
The flagship building is running at capacity and I’m finalizing contracts for two new clinics on the West Coast and one in Atlanta.
Investors call weekly. Interviews flood my inbox.
I am learning how to be visible without losing myself.
Calil makes sure of that. He keeps my feet on the ground and my heart steady.
He left academia and signed on as the President for Soleil’s Sanctuary and he’s doing a phenomenal job.
He doesn’t try to overshadow me as CEO and he always comes to me concerning important day-to-day operations.
We have also started having the quiet conversations. Adoption. Surrogacy. Do we want one kid or two. Whose sperm we’ll use should we find a surrogate.
What our baby might look like. Will they have my stubborn streak or his. Whether we are ready to love someone that big again. The idea no longer terrifies me. It excites me.
When Calil suggested Aspen, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
“Let’s disappear for a few days,” he told me, brushing my hair back while I packed for a business trip a few weeks ago. “No board meetings. No fundraisers. No interviews. Just my wife.”
My wife.
So here we are. Aspen greeting us like a postcard.
Snow draping the mountains in white silk.
The air is crisp and clean. We drive up the winding road toward the resort.
Tall pines lining the path like silent guards.
The sign reads Whispering Pines Retreat.
It looks like something out of a luxury travel magazine.
By the time we reach our cabin I’m feeling frisky and giddy. I packed the perfect lingerie to drive my husband wild and I can’t wait to slip it on.
He unlocks the door with the code the concierge sent. The lock clicks open. I step inside first, already imagining us curled up naked in front of the fire.
The cabin is modern rustic dream. Floor to ceiling glass windows to watch the snow as the stone fireplace burns slow.
A sunken living room with plush cream couches.
A fur throw draped artfully across the armrest. The kitchen gleams with marble countertops and gold fixtures.
We even have a private hot tub steaming on the back deck overlooking the mountains.
“This is perfect,” I breathe.
Calil slides his hand into mine and squeezes. “Just like you Baby.”
And then I hear it.
A laugh.
Not mine. Not Calil’s.
It’s feminine.
I freeze.
Calil steps in behind me, his chest brushing my back. “You good?”
I lift a finger to my lips.
The sultry voice drifts from deeper inside the cabin. Low. Intimate. Familiar in a way that makes my stomach twist. I move slowly past the living room toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.
A suitcase sits open near the couch. Not ours.
A coat draped over the dining chair. A red scarf pooled like spilled wine.
The bedroom door at the end of the hall is partially closed but light spills through the crack.
Calil’s jaw tightens beside me. I feel the shift in him instantly. He’s in protector mode—not sure what to expect.
He pushes the door open and there she is.
Standing near the bed with her back to us. Her short pixie cut is sexy. She’s a curvy plus size woman. Just as I wonder if she’s as beautiful from the front as she is from the back, she turns at the sound of the door. Her eyes widen and she drops her phone.
For a second the air leaves my lungs. She’s stunning. I haven’t been captivated by a woman’s beauty like this since Lena.
She has warm brown skin. Full pouty lips. Beautiful light brown eyes that hold a softness that reminds me of Lena.
“What the hell?”
The woman’s gaze moves between Calil and me; confusion etched across her face. “Who are you?”
Calil’s voice is calm but edged in steel. “I think that’s our question.”
My heart pounds so loud I can hear it in my ears. This cabin was supposed to be our sanctuary. Our quiet escape. I’m staring at a stranger who makes me think of the woman I’m still in love with though all I have left of her is memories.
I swallow.
“Apparently,” I say evenly as I tighten my grip on my husband’s hand, “we’ve been double booked.”