After Gavin Young left, Xavier Vaughn took his seat.
“Eleanor Sutton? Are you alright?” Xavier’s gentle voice snapped Eleanor back from her thoughts.
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
“Mom, when is Dad coming back?” Evelyn Goodwin asked, her mouth half-full of bread.
Eleanor smiled, smoothing her daughter’s soft hair. “Your dad’s busy with work, sweetheart. It might be a while before you see him—maybe not until we’re back home.”
Evelyn seemed content enough, especially with Vivian to play with, and wasn’t quite so fixated on Ian Goodwin these days. She nodded, accepting her mother’s words.
While Xavier placed their order, Eleanor finally checked her phone—she hadn’t looked at it since waking up. A notification caught her eye: Ian had sent her a message in the early hours of the morning.
*Sorry, I had to fly home for work. Gavin will stay and help with anything you need.*
Eleanor glanced at the timestamp. Just past midnight.
“Eleanor, would you rather stay here and keep skiing, or try something different?” Xavier’s question pulled her attention back to the present.
“Do you have any suggestions?” she asked.
“How about we check out Fairytale Meadows? The kids would love it.”
“Sounds good,” Eleanor agreed. She wasn’t much of a skier, and with Ian gone, there was no one left to hit the slopes with Evelyn. A change of scenery sounded perfect.
Xavier had already noticed that Vivian wasn’t particularly keen on skiing, either.
A flash of relief crossed his face. “Great, I’ll arrange for a car. We can leave by noon.”
This time, Eleanor decided not to trouble Gavin with the arrangements.
After lunch, the adults and kids returned to pack up their things. Right on time at ten-thirty, three black SUVs pulled up at the entrance. Xavier’s security detail was ready. They helped Eleanor and her daughter into the car.
Once on the road, Eleanor called Gavin.
“Miss Sutton, you’re leaving?” Gavin’s surprise was evident.
“Yes. Thank you for everything these past few days, Gavin. We can take it from here.”
“But—but Mr. Goodwin asked me to look after you and Evelyn. Where are you headed next? I’ll come right over,” Gavin stammered, clearly anxious.
“No need. If Ian wants to check in, he can come talk to me himself,” Eleanor replied, then ended the call.
Standing in the snow, Gavin stared at his phone, sweat breaking out on his brow despite the cold. He hurriedly dialed Ian’s number back home.
“What is it?” Ian answered promptly.
“Mr. Goodwin, Miss Sutton and Evelyn left with Mr. Vaughn. I don’t know where they went,” Gavin reported quickly.
There was a brief pause. “When did they leave?”
“I got Eleanor’s call just after ten this morning.”
“Head back to the city and wait for my instructions,” Ian said, then hung up.
He pressed the shutter, freezing the moment. It looked, in that instant, as if Eleanor were his wife, caring for the two children and heading toward him with that warm smile.
After a moment’s hesitation, Xavier opened an old social media app he hadn’t used in ages. He uploaded a few photos—scenery, children, sunlight, and that candid shot of Eleanor.
He typed a simple caption: *For this moment, all is calm and right with the world.*
When he hit send, his heart thumped a little faster. He knew he was quietly broadcasting his feelings for Eleanor to the world, even if it was just a hint.
It was a secret, unspoken affection, but in that moment he wished everyone could see.
Back at the hotel, Xavier stretched out on the sofa and checked his phone—likes and comments were already rolling in.
*Where is this, Mr. Vaughn? The scenery looks amazing.*
*Those kids are adorable, and the lady next to you is beautiful too!*
*Mr. Vaughn, when will you introduce us?*
All messages from friends, and Xavier smiled faintly, though beneath the smile was a bittersweet ache.
A moment later, he deleted the post.
He wanted to hold on to the joy of these stolen moments with Eleanor, to savor the reality instead of the fantasy. Tomorrow, they’d be heading home.
He knew that to Eleanor, he was just a friend—these past couple of days had made that clear. And so he didn’t let himself hope for more.

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