​Lily followed the curved stone path towards the spa, the morning sun warming her shoulders as the scent of coconut oil drifted on the breeze. She’d booked the massage almost impulsively, or  more accurately, Mrs. Palmer had nudged her into it with a conspiratorial smile and a whispered, “It’s impossible to have a bad day after a relaxing massage, dear.”

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Inside, the spa was a cocoon of cool marble, hushed voices, and soft Dominican guitar. A spa attendant greeted her with a chilled eucalyptus towel and a tray holding a tiny glass of passion-fruit water.

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“Welcome, Ms. Carter. Your therapist will meet you in just a moment.”

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Lily felt her shoulder begin to drop as she felt the relaxing vibe wash over her. “This already feels heaven-sent,” she murmured.

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She changed into a robe softer than anything she owned back home, then stepped into the hydrotherapy garden... and stopped.

Water trickled across stone channels, lilies floated in turquoise pools, and palm shadows danced across the surface like a slow waltz.

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She sank into a lounger, closing her eyes, only for them to flutter open when someone spoke her name.

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“Lily?”

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She turned. Ethan stood there, still damp from the hydrotherapy pool, a surprised smile curving his mouth.

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“You booked a treatment too?” she asked.

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“I did,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The concierge practically staged an intervention this morning. Said I was missing ‘the full experience.’”

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The way he tried to imitate the concierge’s accent made her laugh. It felt easy with him. Natural.

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“Maybe I’ll thank him later,” she said softly.

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Before she could second-guess herself, she added, “Actually… Would you want to join me for the couples’ massage? I mean, if it is available… maybe?”

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His brows lifted. “Are you sure?”

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No. Yes. Her pulse danced, somewhere between nerves and excitement.

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“I am,” she said. “My treat.”

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The therapist, who was listening, smiled warmly. “Right this way for your 80-minute couples’ massage.”

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Ethan leaned closer and whispered, “Eighty minutes? You really did upgrade.”

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“Mrs. Palmer told me it was ‘life-changing,’” Lily whispered back.

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Inside the treatment suite, the world melted into pre-warmed oils, quiet music, and hands that erased every knot she’d dragged with her from Chicago. At some point, Ethan reached his hand out between the massage tables; she found it without opening her eyes.

 

For the first time in years, she felt something close to peace.