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“Don’t look at me. The cardiologist was clear: if you continue like this, sooner or later, you will kick the bucket.” I try to keep a light tone, but Aaron’s friend’s words have been rumbling in my head since that night.
Evan stares at me in disbelief. I don’t feel guilty for telling it like it is. His friends have a right to know about his health condition, especially since they need to learn not to add stress to his life.
“Seriously?” They all snap together.
Evan rubs a hand over his exasperated face. “You know they’ll never let this go, right?” There is some resignation in his voice that I’ve never heard before.
Even though I let this news slip, I’m glad I did. If this helps lessen the stress of his work, I’m happy to take all the responsibility for this betrayal.
***
Exactly eight hours later, I understand what Evan means by drama queens. They took away all our electronic equipment and put us in the car with Max, who dumped us in front of a cottage in Vermont in the middle of the mountains, no cell phones or landline, saying he’d pick us up sometime tomorrow.
“Now do you understand why I didn’t want to tell them?” he asks as we stare at the front door of the small wooden house.
“I had an inkling when Max told us we were almost there and then drove for another four hours,” I admit.
When they urged us to take time off to relax, I thought they meant a spa somewhere in Manhattan. When Max took the road out of town, I began to worry—the direction wasn’t toward the Hamptons. I gave up fussing when we crossed the state border.
“We don’t even have a change of clothes,” he sighs as he opens the door of the tiny house.
As soon as we enter, the warmth envelops us. Everything is gathered in one room. Along with the small kitchen, we see in one glance a large king-size bed in the corner, scattered with rose petals and a bottle of wine immersed in ice, a fireplace that, despite it being August, is lit, a sofa, and a coffee table. We also see two doors: one leading to the bathroom and one onto a small outdoor patio, where I glimpse a hot tub big enough for at least six people.
“I don’t think they had anything in mind that involves clothes,” I say, chuckling at his expression, part surprised and part exasperated.
“We could take this opportunity to talk about how to deal with Anthony Flores,” he suggests.
I turn to him, hands on my hips and a warning look. “Evan, we don’t even have a piece of paper and a pencil to jot down the ideas that come to mind. Can we just take one day to relax?”
He smiles at me and shakes his head. “I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee I’ll succeed.”
“It’s already a good sign that you haven’t objected to any of this. You’re growing,” I say softly as he smirks.
“Do you want some wine?” he asks, uncorking the bottle on the bed.
I move in close to him, make him sit down, and take off his shoes and socks. I strip him of the jacket, trousers, tie, shirt, and finally, the boxers. I watch him as he smiles at me, amused, and leave him naked on the bed while I undress. I grab the two glasses from the kitchen countertop, the bottle of wine he put in the ice bucket, and motion for him to follow me outside, where the water is already hot and steaming.
I slip into the tub, and Evan does the same. The sun is still high, but the majestic trees around us filter the light, giving this place an almost fairytale feel. We are nestled in a forest in the middle of nowhere, and the place couldn’t be more perfect. I pour two glasses of white wine, and when he takes his seat, I sit between his legs, resting my back on his chest and enjoying his embrace while we sip. I close my eyes and bask in the pleasant sensation of his skin against mine, of the warmth surrounding us.
“Do you hear that?” he whispers in my ear after a few deep breaths.
“What?”
“The silence,” he replies softly as if he is afraid of ruining the quiet of this place.
I nod because it’s true. No cars, traffic, people, music, or noises that surround you in Manhattan every minute of your existence.
Only the rustle of leaves, a few birds in the distance, but nothing else that disturbs the tranquility of this place. It feels like nature is holding its breath.
“Do you smell it?” I whisper, turning toward him.
“What?”
“Nature”
He nods and smiles, holding me tighter. The smell of earth and trees is so strong it overpowers the chlorine in the hot tub. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, filling my lungs with a scent you can’t find anywhere in New York. Not even in Central Park can you breathe in this combination of wet earth, leaves, and endless variety of plants.
“Are you pissed off at them for dragging you here?” I ask after a long silence of basking in the warmth of the water and observing the dense forest around us. An endless row of tall trees divides us from the rest of civilization and guarantees privacy.
