The Holiday Vacation

CHAPTER ONE

The house was quiet, the kind of silence that only existed in the early hours of the morning when the world was still asleep. Ethan sat on the edge of the leather armchair, a glass of whiskey dangling loosely from his fingers. The faint hum of the central air conditioning was the only sound in the dimly lit room. Shadows danced across the walls, cast by the flickering flames in the fireplace. It was the perfect setting for the storm brewing in his mind.

He shouldn’t be here, not at this hour, not in this state of mind. But here he was, sipping his third glass of whiskey, his thoughts consumed by her. The woman he had no right to want. The woman who was married to his older brother.

Ethan tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, his jaw tightening. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to suppress these feelings. He had fought them tooth and nail, burying them under layers of guilt and denial. But every time she walked into a room, her laughter like a melody, her smile bright enough to light up the darkest corners of his soul, those feelings clawed their way back to the surface.

Her name was Olivia.

She wasn’t just beautiful. She was magnetic, the kind of woman who drew people to her without even trying. Her dark hair framed her delicate features, and her eyes—God, her eyes—were like twin pools of temptation, drawing him in deeper every time she looked his way. Ethan could never tell if she knew the effect she had on him. Maybe she did, and that made it worse.

He finished his drink in one long gulp, the alcohol burning its way down his throat. The heat was a welcome distraction, however fleeting. Ethan set the empty glass on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, his frustration mounting.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered to himself.

This wasn’t who he was. Ethan had always been the black sheep of the family, the rebel who lived life on his terms. He didn’t care what people thought of him, didn’t care about their judgments or their rules. But this—wanting Olivia—was a betrayal of everything he stood for. She wasn’t just some woman he could pursue. She was his brother’s wife, for Christ’s sake.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

---

The first time it had hit him, that undeniable pull toward her, was over a year ago at a family gathering. Ethan had arrived late, as usual, sauntering in with his usual air of indifference. But the moment he saw her standing in the garden, her laughter ringing out as she teased his brother, everything changed. She wasn’t wearing anything extraordinary—a simple sundress that swayed in the breeze—but to Ethan, she looked like a goddess.

He remembered the way she’d glanced at him, her smile faltering for just a fraction of a second before she recovered. He had told himself he was imagining it, that the fleeting moment of tension between them wasn’t real. But as the months passed, those moments became more frequent. A lingering glance, a casual touch that lasted a second too long, a smile that seemed meant just for him.

It was maddening.

Ethan tried to stay away. He skipped family dinners, declined invitations, and even considered moving to another city. But fate—or maybe his own masochistic tendencies—always found a way to bring them back together. And every time it did, his resolve crumbled a little more.

---

Tonight, however, was different.

Ethan had come over to his brother’s house for a casual dinner. Olivia had been her usual charming self, flitting around the kitchen, making sure everyone was taken care of. Ethan had stayed on the periphery, keeping his distance, but his eyes followed her every move.

When his brother, Daniel, stepped out to take a phone call, Ethan had found himself alone with her in the kitchen. Olivia had been reaching for a wineglass on the top shelf, her back to him. Without thinking, Ethan had moved to help her, his hand brushing against hers as he grabbed the glass. She had turned to thank him, but the words died on her lips when their eyes met.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them crackled with tension, and Ethan could swear he saw something in her eyes—a flicker of something forbidden. But then Daniel’s voice had called out from the other room, breaking the spell. Olivia had pulled away, her cheeks flushed, and Ethan had retreated to the living room, his heart pounding.

---

Now, hours later, Ethan couldn’t get that moment out of his head. He could still feel the warmth of her hand against his, could still see the way her lips had parted as if she was about to say something.

“What the hell are you doing to me, Olivia?” he whispered, his voice laced with frustration.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a soft knock sounded at the door. Ethan froze, his heart hammering in his chest. It was late—too late for anyone to be visiting. He stood slowly, his mind racing with possibilities. When he opened the door, he wasn’t sure what—or who—he expected to see.

But it wasn’t Olivia.

She stood there, her hair slightly tousled, her eyes wide and uncertain. She was wearing a cardigan over her dress, her arms crossed over her chest as if to shield herself from the cool night air.

“Olivia,” he said, her name barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I couldn’t sleep.”

Ethan stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. She hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold. He closed the door behind her, the weight of her presence suffocating and exhilarating all at once.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice more gruff than he intended.

She looked down at her hands, twisting her wedding ring nervously. “I don’t know. I just… I needed to talk to someone.”

Ethan swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Does Daniel know you’re here?”

She shook her head. “He’s asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.”

Of course, he was asleep. Daniel always slept like a rock, oblivious to the world around him. Oblivious to the fact that his wife was standing in Ethan’s living room, looking like she was about to fall apart.

“Olivia…” Ethan began, but she cut him off.

“Do you ever feel like you’re trapped?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite decipher—pain, maybe, or longing. “Like you’re living a life that isn’t yours?”

Ethan’s chest tightened. He knew that feeling all too well.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice low. “I do.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist. Ethan knew he should tell her to leave, should put an end to this before it spiraled out of control. But he couldn’t. Not when she was standing there, so close and yet so impossibly out of reach.

He took a step toward her, his hand twitching at his side as if it wanted to reach for her. “Olivia, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

Her words were his undoing.

Ethan closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his hands coming up to cup her face. For a split second, he hesitated, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation. But when she leaned into his touch, her lips parting slightly, he knew he wasn’t imagining it.

He kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both testing the waters. But then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepened, their restraint crumbling like a dam that had been holding back a raging river.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

Because for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt alive.