Breakaway
“Snow’s coming down pretty hard,” Emma observed, peering through the windshield at the thickening white curtain. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Alek guided his SUV confidently along the winding mountain road. “The bin’s only twenty minutes away We’ll beat the worst of it.”
Two weeks had passed since Emma’s press conference addressing Jack’s accusations. Her direct, unapologetic approach had effectively neutralized the controversy–not eliminating it entirely, but reducing it from headline news to occasional commentary. Jack himself had gone oddly silent after Seattle management quietly reprimanded him for violating team media protocols
With the immediate crisis managed, Alek had proposed a weekend getaway-“to breathe,” as he put it
“I own a cabin about two hours from Boston, he’d told her. “Completely private. No press, no players, no problems.”
After weeks of intense scrutiny, the promise of isolation had been irresistible.
“There it is,” Alek said now, pointing toward a structure emerging from the snowy landscape.
Emma had expected a rustic retreat. What appeared instead was a modern architectural masterpiece–walls
of glass and clean lines nestled organically among towering pines.
“That’s not a cabin,” she said, impressed. “That’s a design magazine cover.”
Alek smiled. “I may have undersold it slightly.”
Inside, the “cabin” revealed soaring ceilings, a stone fireplace large enough to stand in, and floor–to–ceiling windows showcasing the snow–covered forest. Modern furniture in warm neutrals invited relaxation, while a state–of–the-art kitchen suggested serious cooking happened here.
“This is incredible, Emma breathed, taking in the space. “How often do you come here?”
“Not enough.” Alek deposited their bags in the entryway. “Usually just a few weekends during off–season. Sometimes longer breaks when I need to think strategically”
“Strategic thinking requires a gourmet kitchen?” Emma teased, running her hand along the marble
countertop.
“The strategic thinking requires peace. The kitchen is just because I like to cook.” Alek moved to the large windows. “Storm’s picking up. We made it just in time.”
Emma joined him, watching snowflakes swirl hypnotically against the darkening sky. “It’s beautiful.”
“Worth the drive?” Alek’s arm slipped around her waist.
“Definitely.” She leaned into him, savoring the simple contact they so often denied themselves in public.
did you find this place?”
“Built it.” Alek guided her toward the sofa. “After my knee injury. The insurance payout was substantial, and i needed a project while rehabbing.”
“You designed this?” Emma looked around with new appreciation.
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- Breakaway
“Collaborated with an architect. But yes, many elements were my ideas.” He began building a fire in the massive hearth. I wanted somewhere that felt both shelter and freedom.”
Emma watched him work, struck by how at case he seemed here–more relaxed than she’d ever seen him in
Boston “It suits you.”
The fire caught, casting golden light across the room. Outside, snow continued falling, transforming the forest into a pristine white wonderland. Emma felt tensions she hadn’t even realized she was carrying begin
to melt away.
“Wine?” Alek asked, heading to the kitchen.
“Please.”
While he opened a bottle, Emma explored the main living area, noting personal touches she wouldn’t have expected–books in Russian and English stacked beside reading chairs, framed photographs of spectacular landscapes, even a vintage record player with an impressive vinyl collection.
“You’re full of surprises, Aleksander Volkov,” she said, examining the album selection.
He returned with two glasses of red wine. “Good surprises, I hope.”
“The best kind.” Emma accepted her glass. “I just realized we’ve never really been alone like this. No work, no crisis, no Jack drama hovering in the background.”
*Precisely why I insisted on this trip.” Alek settled beside her on the sofa, stretching his long legs toward the fire. “I wanted you all to myself for forty–eight uninterrupted hours.”
“Ambitious plans for those hours?” Emma asked, curling into his side.
“Very ambitious.” His eyes gleamed in the firelight. “Starting with absolutely nothing for at least the next
three.”
Emma laughed. “Nothing? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“Nothing scheduled. Nothing required. Nothing professional.” Alek took her wine glass, setting it aside with his own. “Just being.”
His kiss was unhurried, lacking the restraint they usually maintained even in private–as if the physical distance from Boston had released some final boundary between them. Emma responded in kind, letting herself sink fully into the moment without the mental calculations that had become habitual–who might see, what might be reported, how it might be interpreted.
Here, there was only Alek. His warmth, his strength, the surprising gentleness in hands capable of such power. For the first time since their relationship began, Emma felt completely present, unburdened by the past or anxieties about the future.
“I’ve been waiting months to have you here,” Alek murmured against her neck. “The only place that’s truly mine”
“Worth the wait,” Emma agreed, losing herself in sensations too long denied.
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