SURPRISE

The morning air was cool and sharp. The sky wore a soft grey like it hadn't made up its mind yet — sunshine or rain. Leon didn't care either way. The boat was already booked. The route already set. And his decision? Unshakable.

He parked in front of the house, engine humming quietly, hands gripping the steering wheel for a few extra seconds before he moved.

Today wasn't about the past.

It was about releasing it.

He knocked once.

The door opened to Celeste, her hair tied back loosely, a cardigan pulled over a pale-blue dress. She blinked at him, clearly surprised.

"Leon? I thought—" Her voice faltered. "Didn't think I'd see you this early."

He nodded toward the street. "Come on. Get dressed properly. We're leaving."

Her brows pulled together. "Where?"

A slow, steady breath. "Surprise."

She hesitated. "Actually, I already have plans later. Damien's taking me out for—"

"It won't take long," he cut in gently. "You'll be back before he comes."

Her eyes searched his face for a clue. "Is this part of my birthday?"

He gave a half-smile. "Something like that."

She didn't press. Just turned back into the house. "Let me get my shoes."

They didn't talk much during the drive.

She stared out the window, tracing clouds with her eyes. He focused on the road, letting the silence stretch between them like an agreement neither of them had signed.

He didn't take the usual route through town.

The further they drove, the quieter the world became — houses turning into trees, roads into winding curves, the scent of water growing stronger.

She noticed.

"Where are we going?" she asked again, this time with a small laugh.

Leon smiled faintly. "Still a surprise."

"You're being mysterious," she said, glancing at him.

"I'm being honest."

She tilted her head. "That's the same thing?"

He didn't answer.

When they pulled up to the dock, her mouth opened slightly. A sleek, elegant boat waited at the edge of the water, rocking gently with the wind.

Leon stepped out, moved around the car, and opened her door. "Careful. The deck's slippery."

Celeste looked at the boat, then back at him. "We're going on that?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

He met her eyes — calm, steady, unreadable. "Because I need to talk to you. And I don't want anyone else around when I do."

Something in his voice pulled her still. A strange silence settled over her heart.

She took his hand.

And stepped aboard.