bChapter /bb202 /b

DAMIEN’S POV

For a second, I thought about lying—but what was the point? She could probably see right through me anyway. I let out a sheepishugh, raising bmy /bhands slightly in mock surrender.

“All right, you caught me. He might have given me a little… advice,” I admitted.

She rolled her eyes, but I noticed the corner of her mouth twitch, almost like she was fighting a smile. “Of course he did,” she said. “Julian’s practically the only one who remembers I like canoe rides. And since this is your first time, it all pieces together.”

She stepped closer to the canoe, ncing at me and then at the boat like she was weighing whether or not this was really worth it. “Well, since you dragged me all the way out here–and dragged the poor boat too–I guess I’ll teach you.”

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and grinned. “Deal.”

Carefully, I stepped into the canoe, gripping the sides to steady myself. The boat rocked gently under my weight, the waterpping against it bin /bsmall ripples. For a moment, it felt like theke was testing us–asking if we really belonged there.

Olivia stepped in next, her movements surprisingly practiced, and settled across from me. A few strands of her hair caught the breeze, brushing blightly /bagainst her face before she tucked them behind her ear. Even in this casual outfit–simple shorts and a crop top–she looked effortlessly striking, her expression calm yet guarded.

She picked up her paddle, the worn wood smooth under her hands. “First rule–don’t try to paddle too hard or you’ll just spin us in circlesi,/ii” /ishe said, demonstrating a steady, even stroke on one side of the canoe.

“Like this?” I asked, mimicking her motion. My first attempt sshed a little water between us, but the canoe started to move forward, gently rocking

from side to side.

She nodded, the edges of her lips softening into something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t far from it either. “Better. Just keep it slow, Damien. It’s

not a race.”

The canoe pushed off the shallow bank and glided farther into theke. Around us, the air felt fresher, cooler. Trees along the shoreline swayed gently, their leaves rustling in a calm, rhythmic sound. Even the ever–present hum of New York felt distant here, softened by the water.

“Okay, we’re not sinking, so that’s progress,” I joked, ncing around.

She let out a quietugh–barely more than an exhale–but it felt like a small victory. Then my gaze drifted back toward the shore, to the two men in ck suits standing watch, their postures alert and eyes scanning the area.

“Was there any need to bring them along?” I asked. “I mean, it’s not like they’re going to paddle after us in another canoe.”

She didn’t immediately look at me, focusing instead on guiding the boat forward with another slow stroke. “I’d prefer to keep them close, even if they I can’t follow us out here,” she said. “Back in this city… You never know what could happen next.”

Her voice was calm, almost matter–of–fact, but there was something deeper beneath it–a weight she carried so naturally that I wondered if she even

noticed anymore.

“I get that,” I said, my tone softer. “I guess it’s different for you. You don’t really get to… switch off, do you?”

She met my eyes for a moment, her paddle pausing mid–stroke. “Not anymorei,/ii” /ishe said quietly. Then, as if catching herself, she turned her attention back to the water. “But today, let’s just keep going forward, okay?”

“Always make sure your paddle isn’t sideways,” she added, her voice calm but firm, like a teacher patiently guiding a distracted bstudent/bb. /bb“/bbThat /bbway /bbit /bes in contact with enough water to give the boat direction.”

I nodded, adjusting my grip on the paddle and turning the t side fully into the water. To my surprise, bit /bworked almost binstantly/b–bthe /bcanoe bsteadied /bbitself/b, gliding forward more smoothly, Just like that, the jerky drifting from before softened into ba /bgentleb, /balmost graceful movement

b“/bYou see?” Olivia said, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “It’s not asplicated as it looks. Just keep your strokes even.

I grinned back bat /bher, trying not to look too smug about finally getting it right. “Noted. Left, then right… got it.”

She watched me for a moment, her gaze thoughtful, before turning her own paddle back into the water. “Left then right,” she repeated softly, almond the she was speaking to herself as well.

We started to paddle in sync. With each stroke, the canoe moved further from the shore, cutting through the ssy surface of theke. The noise of the city had faded behind us, reced by the rhythmic ssh of paddles and the asional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Out here, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us, theke, and the slow, steady heartbeat of the water.

“So, what made you like this?” I asked after a few quiet moments, ncing up at her. “I mean… this whole canoe thing”

She looked ahead, her paddle gliding easily through the water, before answering. “Well… you might not notice it at first, but after a while ofing to differentkes, it bes like therapy,” she said, her voice softer now, almost reflective. “It calms my soul and body. When I first took an interest in it, my whole life was still messed up… anding here really helped me breathe.”

I watched the way her expression changed as she spoke–the hardness in her gaze softened, her shoulders rxed slightly, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable, like the weight she usually carried had been set down beside her.

“I get it… eventually,” I replied, though I let out augh, half from nervousness and half from exhaustion. “But right nowbi, /i/bit just feels like my arms are about to fall off.”

She looked at me, amusement dancing in her eyes. “How are you breathless and sweating already? You look like you just ran a mile,” she teased, still paddling effortlessly.

“I’m serious!” I protested, though I couldn’t stop augh from escaping. “How do people on TV do this? They always look calm and heroic, gliding across the water like it’s nothing. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying not to drop my paddle.”

“Maybe you’re just out of practicei,/ii” /ishe teased, her tone light but yful.

“I’ve literally never practiced,” I shot back. “Pretty sure this counts as day one.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. And for a brief moment, I forgot the burn in my arms, the soreness settling into my shoulders. Herughter made it worth it.

Then, just as I was about to say something else, a sudden small thud snapped me out of my thoughts. The canoe jerked slightly to the side, and I felt the paddle in my hands stop moving.

“I think iI /ijust hit something… and my paddle is stuck,” I said, trying to cug it free. The resistance made the boat rock gently beneath us.