Chapter 15

chapter

fifteen

Serenity smiled back at her."We're going to dig into your specific problems as a couple."

"Oh. Um… I really don't think this is necessary." She tried to back away but found Cal directly behind her, blocking her escape. He closed his hand over her shoulder and gave it a gentle warning squeeze.

"This is why we're here, honey," he reminded.

Right. Shit. She had to play along, but it had been much easier to do so when the workshops were all about astral projection and crystals.

Serenity's smile never wavered. She seemed the embodiment of her chosen name. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Ellie. All couples need a little help sometimes, and the best place to start is by simply acknowledging and accepting that. This retreat is about relinquishing our instinctive defenses and opening ourselves up to all the love that your partner and the universe has to offer."

Ellie considered herself an open-minded person. She believed in karma and ghosts and didn't think reincarnation was out of the realm of possibility. But these people, with their relentless optimism and mystic mumbo-jumbo, were fraying her nerves.

She glanced at Cal, but he wasn't going to be any help. His eyes sparkled with a hint of challenge, silently daring her to take the plunge. The bastard was enjoying this.

She turned back to Serenity. "Fine. Let's do it."

"Wonderful." Serenity moved to the center of the room and gestured for them to follow.

Cal took her hand, the touch igniting that stubborn flame low in her belly.Would she always feel like this when he touched her? Ten years, twenty years down the road, would she still get that flash of heat, that rabble of butterflies?

Not that she planned to be with him in twenty years.

"We need to do this," he whispered close to her ear.

Of course, she knew that. The longer they were here, the more convinced she became that these people knew something about her sister's whereabouts. The only way they were going to find Hope was to win the community's trust.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

She drew a fortifying breath and followed Serenity's lead without another word.

"Sit," Serenity instructed, pointing to two pillows on the floor. "Get comfortable, then close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. We must prepare ourselves for our journey inward."

With a last look at Cal, Ellie descended to the floor, perching on a pillow decorated with fantastical bird designs and geometric patterns. Cal took a seat opposite her, knees bent, hands floating uncertainly before settling on his thighs.

Across from her, Cal's face looked almost serene in the warm glow of the room's fairy lights. His eyes were closed, and the tension in his face had eased somewhat. It was as if he was genuinely trying to embrace this strange experience. Ellie wrangled her thoughts to focus, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Now," Serenity said softly. "Envision an energy field, wrapping your bodies in radiant warmth. The universe's love for you has no bounds."

Ellie couldn't help but snort at that one, earning a gentle reprimand from Serenity.

"Acceptance is key here, Ellie."

She clenched her teeth. Acceptance. The word echoed in her mind like the stupid gong. She'd accepted a lot of things in her life, but this? This was pushing her limits. Sitting across from Cal, pretending to be married when every fiber of her being wanted to keep him at arm's length, pretending she was interested in all of this esoteric mumbo-jumbo when all she wanted was answers—it was maddening.

"Once you let down your walls and take things wholeheartedly, you'll find peace. Are you ready to take that step with Cal?"

Was she?

No.

She could play a part, sure, but accepting Cal back into her life? That wasn't going to happen.

"Ellie?" Serenity prodded gently. "Let down your walls. You'll see the world much more clearly."

Ellie held back another snort. She could already see the world clearly, thank you very much. She didn't need some cult member to tell her what she was missing. Still, she closed her eyes again and tried to play along.

"Okay. I'm ready now."

"Good," Serenity said, and a gong rang through the room. Ellie cracked open an eye and caught Cal's smothered laugh, which he hid behind a cough.

"I know you think I'm crazy," Serenity said without malice as she set the gong's mallet back on the floor. "Believe me. When my husband and I first came here, I thought the same thing. But give it a chance. Keep an open mind, and you might be surprised. This saved our marriage, and it can save your relationship. Can you promise me that you'll keep an open mind?"

Ellie glanced at Cal, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. The intensity of his eyes left her feeling exposed and bare. She swallowed hard and turned back to Serenity.

"I promise." It wasn't necessarily a lie. She was keeping an open mind, just not about Serenity's advice.

"That's all I ask," Serenity said with a gracious smile. "Now close your eyes and imagine a thread of connection between you and Cal," Serenity continued. "Does it glow bright with love, or is it dimmed by hurt and misunderstanding?"

A thread? Ha. More like a steel cable. Their connection had always been unnaturally strong, even when they loathed each other—or, she supposed, it was more accurate to say when she loathed him. He'd never hated her, but oh, how she'd hated him at one time.

Did she still?

No, even as much as she wanted to.

Her cheeks warmed at the thought, and she was grateful for the cover of her closed eyes.

"I don't know about Ellie, but mine's glowing like a Christmas tree." Cal's sincerity was disarming. The note of raw honesty in them rattled her.

"Funny, I was going to say mine's glowing like a dumpster fire."

Cal laughed. Even with her eyes closed, could picture that damned irresistible grin of his clearly. That grin and his sense of humor were some of the things that had initially attracted her to him.

"Conflict isn't necessarily a bad thing," Serenity said before Cal could reply. "It can help illuminate the areas where we need growth and compromise."

Compromise? With Cal? It seemed as likely as the sun rising in the west. Still, she held her peace—no point in arguing with Serenity's boundless optimism.

"Just... let me know when we get to the part where we rid ourselves of all conflict and live happily ever after," Ellie grumbled, shifting on her cushion.

Cal let out another soft chuckle. "You always did like skipping to the end. No patience for the journey, but that's the fun part."

She scowled. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to know the ending first. If I had known our ending, I never would've?—"

"Ellie?" Cal's voice was filled with quiet regret, which left an ache throbbing in her chest. "If you knew we'd end up like this, would you have wished for us to never happen?"

Her eyes fluttered open. He looked genuinely hurt and she wished she could call back her words. She didn't want a relationship with him, but that didn't mean she wanted to hurt him.

"I..." She started but found herself unable to finish, the words sticking in her throat like glue. The truth was, she wasn't sure if she would choose to fall for him again, knowing the hurt it would cause them both."We can't turn back time. We can't change what happened. We are where we are now."

Serenity let out a hum of thoughtfulness before she spoke, her gaze bouncing between the two of them. "Sometimes, it takes a little time and distance to realize what we've always had. You're both here now, taking this step together. That tells me there's still hope."

Cal laughed, but it was hollow. "Hope," he echoed, his gaze boring into Ellie's. "I'm always holding onto hope."

Her heart clenched at the subtle double entendre— Hope, her missing sister, and hope, the emotion, the feeling of expectation, anticipation, even... of want. She had to swallow past the lump in her throat.

Serenity nodded. "Hope is a powerful thing, Cal. Never let it go."

Silence settled over the room, heavy and intense, charged like a summer storm. There were so many unspoken words and buried feelings. She didn't know how they could heal from it all.

"I think that's enough for today," Serenity said gently, breaking the spell. "Take some time to reflect on what we've talked about. We'll meet again tomorrow."

Ellie managed a curt nod before exiting the room as quickly as decorum allowed her. She needed to breathe, to clear her head of all thoughts about Cal and his damned hold on her emotions.

But he was right on her heels. "Ellie?—"

She whirled on him. "This isn't real. You and me? We're done. We're not a couple anymore."

"I know."

"Do you?" she hissed, aware that they were drawing stares from other commune members in the nearby garden. "Because in there?—"

He caught her hand as she gestured wildly toward the tent and lowered his voice to match her. "I'm playing my part, Elle. That's all."

"Your part? We are not a couple, Cal. We are not in love. And we never will be again."

His eyes flashed with a mix of emotions—hurt, surprise, regret. "I didn't say?—"

"Save it," she cut him off, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "You're good at playing roles, aren't you? The perfect defense attorney who can make anyone believe anything." Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she stubbornly blinked them back. She stalked back to their cabin and shut the door. But of course, there wasn't a lock. They didn't believe in locks here, and Cal was able to walk right in.

He ran a hand through his blond hair and let out a frustrated sigh. "Ellie, I know I hurt you before. I'm sorry for that. But right now, we're stuck here, and we need to stick together. For Hope."

At the mention of her sister's name, her breath caught in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "And I suppose you're going to defend them too once we find proof that they're responsible for her disappearance? Are you just here to rack up more clients?"

Cal flinched as if physically stung by her words. "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" A harsh laugh tore out of her, brittle and broken, scraping the inside of her throat raw. "Your job is your life, Cal. You already chose it over me once. How do I know you're not doing it again?"

He reached out, but she stepped back, keeping a distance between them that was more than just physical. His face softened into a sad understanding that settled like a weight in the pit of her stomach.

"Ellie," he began again, softer this time, almost like a plea. "Please, just give me a chance to explain?—"

"What's there to explain? That you did your job by getting Jaxon Throne a lighter sentence in a minimum-security prison?"

"Yes. Because he isn't a killer."

"He tried to kill Alexis. He wanted to kill Shane."

"And he's paying for that with ten years of his life, but he's doing it in a place where he can get the help he desperately needs for his drug addiction and PTSD. You really think he should've been thrown in a maximum-security prison to rot?"

"No." Exhausted, she dropped into a chair and shoved her hands into her curls. "No. But you didn't know the extenuating circumstances when you chose to defend him, and you were willing to do it anyway."

Cal paused. Moments passed as the tension in the room grew thicker with every deafening tick of the clock on the wall.

"Yeah, I was," he admitted finally.

The honesty in his words struck her in a place she didn't expect— it hurt, but it also relieved her somehow. "I can't give my heart to a man who defends monsters."

Cal's eyes darkened, his shoulders hunched forward as if he'd taken a physical blow. "You think what I do... you think that makes me a monster, too?"

Her heart clenched in her chest, compressing her lungs and stealing her breath. The silence between them stretched thin, taut, filling the room with a palpable tension that prickled against her skin like static electricity.

"No," she said finally. "I don't think you're a monster. I think you're a good man... too good. You believe in people's potential for redemption so much that you chose it over us. And that's why I can't love you again. "