Two Hearts

Was it Real or Did I Imagine It?

Laura's POV

As much as I hated to admit it, that weekend had been exactly what we needed.

The peace. The quiet. The ocean.

And despite all the awkward moments, despite how uncomfortable both of us had been at times, everything had felt surprisingly natural.

Daniel had surprised me more times than I could count.

The first evening, when he'd casually chopped firewood and repaired things around the cabin as if it were the most normal thing in the world—not as if he were the CEO of a multimillion-dollar company.

Then this morning, when he'd taken us to a small roadside tavern for breakfast.

Even now it felt strange to picture someone like Daniel Carter walking into a place like that and simply saying, "The usual, please."

No private dining rooms. No luxury. No special treatment.

Just breakfast.

And somehow, that image kept replaying in my head. Because none of it fit the man I thought I knew. And there had been progress. At least I thought there had been.

Back at the beach, he'd actually started asking questions.

Real questions.

He'd listened. And for once, I answered honestly. I had nothing to hide.

But Daniel...

Every time I thought he was finally opening up, every time I thought I was getting closer to understanding him, he would retreat behind those walls again.

Maybe I'd asked the wrong questions. Maybe I had pushed too far without realizing it. Even now, sitting in the car on our way home, I found myself replaying that conversation.

"Daniel, when did you buy the cabin? It's beautiful."

He hadn't answered immediately.

Just kept walking.

Then finally:

"A few years ago."

That was it.

So I'd tried again.

"Why did you buy it? Does it mean something to you?"

I had watched him hesitate.

Watched him carefully choose his words.

And then:

"No. I just bought it."

End of discussion.

But I knew better. I had seen it. The hesitation. The pause. The look in his eyes. That cabin meant something.

Something important.

And whatever it was, he wasn't ready to share it. The realization stayed with me all the way home.

Daniel had built walls so high that nobody could climb them. Nobody could look over them. Nobody could see what was happening inside his world.

Not even for a moment.

By the time we arrived home, I felt exhausted. Not because of Daniel. Not because of the trip. Not even because of our problems.

I was exhausted because of the peace. Because apparently even peace could wear you out. Still, it was the most pleasant kind of exhaustion I'd felt in years.

I dropped my bag onto the bed and mentally started organizing the rest of my evening.

Shower.

Check the kids' homework.

Make dinner.

Sleep.

Simple.

Orderly. I liked having a plan.

Then my phone buzzed.

I frowned.

A text message. On a Sunday afternoon? I picked up my phone.

And froze.

Chris.

I hadn't heard from him in weeks. Not directly. The kids had told me he'd called several times. Which was normal. I'd never tried to stop them from talking to their father.

The message was simple - I'd like to take the kids next weekend. Can we arrange something?

That was all.

No drama. No accusations. Nothing complicated.

I replied immediately - Of course. No problem. We'll work out the details closer to the weekend.

Send.

Done.

But then...

After the message was already gone, a strange thought appeared. Maybe I should tell Daniel.

I frowned. Why?

There was no reason. The children were mine. Chris was their father. Daniel didn't need to approve anything.

And yet...

For some reason, it felt wrong not to tell him.

Before I could stop myself, my feet were already carrying me toward his office. I had seen him go there when we arrived home.

Maybe he really intended to work. Maybe he was already hiding again. But at least he was here. That was something.

Because not long ago he would've disappeared before we'd even unpacked.

The office door was open. The light was on.

I'd only been inside a few times - The day I moved in. The day after, while exploring the house.

And then—

I stopped abruptly.

Oh no.

The marriage certificate. The rings.

I had completely forgotten.

The lawyer had delivered them days ago. I'd left everything on Daniel's desk. Planning to tell him later. Then everything had happened so fast that I'd never gotten around to it.

Panic immediately settled in my stomach.

Slowly, I approached the doorway. Daniel was sitting behind his desk. Completely motionless. Staring at the marriage certificate. At the ring box.

He looked like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

And suddenly I started panicking too. Because I had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.

"Daniel?" I spoke carefully. Softly. Trying not to make things worse.

Maybe everything would be fine. The weekend had been good. We'd relaxed. Talked. Learned things about each other. Taken a step forward.

Maybe—

Then he looked at me.

And my stomach dropped instantly.

The man from the cabin was gone. Gone was the man who collected shells with Ellie. Gone was the man who sat beside me on the terrace drinking tea while we watched the ocean.

The Daniel sitting in front of me now was the one I knew - Cold. Controlled. Distant. His blue eyes were filled with enough ice to freeze the entire room.

"You could've told me." His voice was calm.

Too calm.

He pointed at the desk.

"About what?" I knew exactly what he meant. But every survival instinct I possessed immediately switched on.

"That these were here." He pointed again.

I glanced at the certificate. The rings. Then back at him.

"I left them on your desk days ago."

"And you couldn't say something?"

There it was.

The accusation. The irritation. The familiar tone that instantly made me defensive.

I folded my arms.

"You were never here." The second the words left my mouth, I knew I'd hit something.

Because for the first time, Daniel didn't immediately answer. For a split second, something flashed in his eyes. Something that looked dangerously close to guilt.

Then it vanished. Just as quickly as it had appeared.

I immediately regretted coming here. I had wanted to do the right thing. Instead, everything was turning into another argument.

Just like always.

Fine.

If we were already here...

"Chris texted."

The room went still.

His jaw tightened slightly. Not much. Just enough for me to notice. For a second, it looked as though he was preparing himself for bad news.

"He wants the kids next weekend."

Silence.

"I just thought maybe you'd want to know."

Still silence.

I laughed bitterly.

"Clearly I was mistaken." I straightened. "I'm sorry for interrupting you." My voice had become just as cold as his.

If he could talk to me like that, why shouldn't I do the same?

I turned around. Done with the conversation. Done with him.

At least for today.

Maybe the cabin had been a mistake after all. Maybe I'd imagined the progress. Maybe I'd imagined all of it. Because the moment we'd stepped back into this house, everything had fallen apart again.

And honestly?

Right now I didn't care what Daniel Carter did.

He could disappear straight to hell for all I cared.