Two Hearts

The Cabin

Laura's POV

I stood in the middle of my room, staring at the small travel bag resting on the bed.

Only one thought kept repeating inside my head - Wait... what just happened?

I still couldn't believe I had agreed to this.

More importantly, I couldn't believe Daniel had suggested it. The idea had come completely out of nowhere. Of course, he wasn't wrong. It had been a terrible morning.

Actually, not just the morning. Everything had been exhausting ever since the contract was signed and our lives had become tangled together.

Maybe we really did need a different place. Different walls. Different air. Somewhere neither of us had to think about contracts, deadlines, lies, grandmothers, or fake marriages.

The children had agreed immediately. Ellie had practically screamed with excitement. Markus had somehow gone from half-asleep to fully awake in less than three seconds. Neither of them had even asked about breakfast. They had simply rushed to pack.

I barely managed to remind them to bring only the essentials. We were only staying for two days.

For children, things were simple. Offer them an adventure and they never asked questions.

Thirty minutes later we were already on the road.

Daniel was driving.

I sat beside him.

The children occupied the back seats. Even that had somehow turned into an argument.

Five minutes earlier...

"Laura, sit in the front. The kids can sit in the back while I load the bags."

My brain immediately froze. The front? Absolutely not.

I did not want to spend two hours trapped beside Daniel Carter. Every time he stood too close, my thoughts stopped working properly. Putting us inside the same vehicle felt unnecessarily dangerous.

"I can sit with the children," I offered calmly. "It's not a problem."

Daniel looked at me over the trunk.

"Are you joking?"

"What?"

"I don't mind sitting in the back."

He stared at me.

"No."

That was it. Just no.

"I'll be perfectly comfortable."

"No, you won't."

I crossed my arms.

"And why exactly not?"

Daniel shut the trunk. Walked around the car. Opened the driver's door. Then finally answered.

"Because this car wasn't designed for families." He glanced toward the back seats.

"The kids will fit." Then his eyes flickered toward me. "You won't."

I could have sworn he was trying not to smile. The infuriating man.

In the end, I climbed into the passenger seat anyway.

And now we were driving.

If someone had told me yesterday that I would willingly spend the weekend at Daniel Carter's private cabin by the sea, I would have laughed directly in their face.

Yet there I was.

Sitting beside him. Questioning every life decision that had led me here.

The drive wasn't peaceful. Not even close.

Ellie talked nonstop. About school. About her friends. About an upcoming birthday party. About two boys who had nearly started a war over a lunch table. Every topic somehow led to another.

Meanwhile, Markus sat silently with headphones in, staring out the window. Which was strange. Usually he and Ellie argued every five minutes. I kept wondering whether they'd fought before leaving.

Then, just as I thought my head might explode from Ellie's endless commentary, Markus finally spoke.

Unfortunately, that wasn't any better.

"How far is it?"

"About twenty-five minutes," Daniel answered.

Five minutes later:

"How far now?"

"Twenty."

Another five minutes passed.

"And now?"

I saw Daniel grip the steering wheel. For a moment, I was certain he was about to lose his patience.

Instead he said:

"If you ask again, we'll arrive next Christmas."

For a second there was silence. Then all of us burst out laughing. Even Daniel.

And somehow that surprised me most of all. Because it was the first time I'd laughed at one of his jokes. The first genuine laugh.

Not sarcasm.

Not irritation.

Just laughter.

The cabin wasn't what I'd expected.

When Daniel said cabin by the sea, I had imagined a tiny wooden structure standing alone on the shoreline.

This wasn't a cabin.

It was a house. Old. Well maintained. Large enough for an entire family.

There was a woodshed nearby.

And when I turned toward the ocean... My breath caught.

The beach stretched endlessly in both directions. The sea sparkled beneath the afternoon sun. Waves rolled onto the shore in a steady rhythm.

The moment I saw it, something inside me relaxed. The tension I'd been carrying for weeks seemed to loosen.

Daniel had been right. We needed this.

After unpacking, Daniel showed me the bedroom. Then casually threw his own bag onto the living room sofa. I pretended not to notice. We both pretended not to notice.

Afterward we headed for the beach.

The weather was beautiful. Sunny. Windy. Perfect.

Ellie collected seashells. Markus ran up and down the shoreline.

And Daniel walked beside me. For a while, neither of us spoke. I had expected questions. Lots of questions. After all, we were supposedly learning about each other.

Instead, Daniel surprised me.

"You look different here."

I turned toward him.

"Different how?"

He considered the question.

Then said:

"Less angry."

I stared at him. He was absolutely enjoying this. I could see it. The urge to slap him returned immediately.

Before I could respond, Ellie came charging toward us.

"Daniel!" She grabbed his hand.

"Come help me find the biggest shells!"

Daniel looked at me. The expression on his face clearly said: Help me.

I smiled sweetly. Absolutely not. He could handle that himself. I watched as Ellie dragged him away. Within minutes she had him searching for seashells like a professional treasure hunter.

Somehow it was impossible not to laugh.

Eventually I wandered farther down the beach and sat on a large driftwood log. The ocean stretched endlessly before me. The wind carried the scent of salt and seaweed. For the first time in months, I felt peaceful.

Truly peaceful.

Every now and then I glanced back. Daniel was still helping Ellie. Markus had joined them. The three of them were talking. Laughing. Competing over who had found the biggest shell.

And once again I found myself staring.

Because the man standing there looked nothing like the Daniel I knew. If I hadn't met him before this arrangement, I would have assumed he was a devoted father.

Maybe even a good husband.

The thought startled me.

By evening we had returned to the house.

I started preparing dinner.

The children had spent most of the day surviving on snacks Daniel had purchased without my approval. An entire store's worth of snacks. I was still annoyed about it.

"Relax," Daniel had said earlier. "It's vacation food."

Vacation food. As if that explained anything.

While I cooked, Daniel disappeared outside.

"I need to bring in firewood."

I nearly laughed. Daniel Carter carrying firewood? That seemed impossible.

Yet half an hour later, the fireplace was burning. Warm orange flames danced across the room. The entire house felt cozier. More alive.

While setting the table, I noticed Daniel examining one of the living room windows.

"This needs fixing." He disappeared briefly. Then returned carrying a toolbox.

I blinked.

Since when did a man who wore three-thousand-dollar suits know how to repair a broken window latch?

The more time I spent here, the less sense he made.

Dinner passed peacefully.

The children were exhausted. Fresh air had a way of doing that. By the time we finished eating, both of them were struggling to keep their eyes open.

Within minutes they had disappeared upstairs.

Daniel vanished shortly afterward.

I cleaned the kitchen alone. Eventually everything was spotless. Yet I wasn't tired. Not even a little.

So I grabbed a blanket and stepped outside.

The evening had grown cooler. The sun had already disappeared below the horizon. Only soft streaks of pink remained in the sky.

I settled into one of the chairs on the porch and wrapped the blanket around myself.

The sea stretched before me. Dark. Endless. Peaceful.

This place felt different. It didn't feel like one of Daniel's expensive properties. It didn't feel staged. Or purchased. It felt lived in. Loved.

As though this was the only place in the world where he allowed himself to simply be Daniel.

The thought lingered longer than it should have.

Then a door opened behind me.

I turned.

Daniel stepped onto the porch carrying two mugs. Without a word, he handed one to me.

"Thought you might be cold."

I accepted it.

"Thank you."

He sat down in the chair beside mine.

Neither of us spoke.

The ocean filled the silence. The wind moved through the trees.

For once, there were no arguments. No contracts. No plans. No pretending.

Just the sea.

The night.

And two people sitting quietly beneath the same sky.