For the first time in her life, Michelle was taking an entire weekend for herself.
The decision had not come easily. The past few months had left her emotionally drained, caught between personal disappointments and the relentless pressures of work. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, another problem demanding her attention. Eventually, she had reached a point where she could no longer ignore the exhaustion weighing on her shoulders.
That was how she had found herself scrolling through vacation rentals late one evening, searching for somewhere quiet, somewhere far removed from the noise of everyday life.
She had settled on a modest Airbnb tucked away in the woods of Bangor, Maine. The house was nothing extravagant, but that was precisely what appealed to her. It was modern, comfortable, and surrounded by nature. Beyond the property stretched a crystal-clear lake, its calm waters perfect for swimming or spending an afternoon on a paddleboard beneath the summer sun.
As she drove toward her destination, miles of forest unfolding along the roadside, Michelle felt a cautious sense of relief beginning to take hold. For once, there were no deadlines to meet, no customers to satisfy, and no expectations waiting for her.
The weekend ahead belonged entirely to her.
And more than anything, she hoped it would be enough to help her breathe again.
Songs from her Spotify playlist drifted through the cabin of her SUV, filling the space with the familiar electronic melodies of Above & Beyond. The music blended seamlessly with the scenery passing beyond her windows. Dense forests stretched for miles on either side of the road, interrupted only by occasional clearings bathed in warm afternoon sunlight. The farther she drove, the more distant the rest of the world seemed to become.
Michelle rested one hand on the steering wheel and lowered the driver's side window slightly, allowing a cool breeze to slip inside. The scent of pine and fresh earth filled the air, replacing the stale atmosphere of offices, crowded stores, and city traffic she had grown accustomed to.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
The thought no longer carried the sting it had a few weeks ago. Their breakup had been difficult, but now, a month later, she found herself enjoying her newfound independence far more than she had expected. There was something liberating about not having to compromise every decision, explain every choice, or worry about someone else's expectations.
For the first time in a long while, she was answering only to herself.
There were no friends texting her suggestions for the weekend. No one asking where she was going or what she planned to do. It was just her, her music, and the open road leading toward the secluded Airbnb waiting in the woods of Maine.
As the miles slipped away beneath her tires, a sense of calm settled over her. The tension that had clung to her for weeks seemed to loosen its grip with every passing kilometer. Ahead of her lay two uninterrupted days of peace, nature, and solitude.
At least, that was what she expected to find.
Even though she had packed enough supplies to survive the entire weekend, Michelle found herself pulling into the parking lot of a small grocery store less than ten miles from the Airbnb.
The urge had come out of nowhere.
As she parked her SUV and cut the engine, a smile crept across her face. Her ex would have immediately launched into a lecture about energy drinks, caffeine, and all the reasons she shouldn't be drinking one.
The thought brought a surprising sense of satisfaction. She grabbed her purse, stepped out into the warm afternoon air, and headed toward the store's entrance.
A small bell chimed overhead as she pushed through the door.
The grocery store looked exactly like the kind of place one would expect to find in a rural Maine town. The fluorescent lights cast a pale glow over the narrow aisles, while old advertisements hung slightly crooked on the walls. The scent of fresh coffee, cardboard boxes, and cleaning products lingered in the air.
Michelle immediately felt a pair of eyes settle on her.
Behind the register sat a heavyset cashier, a man who looked to be in his fifties. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary before he returned his attention to a magazine lying beside the cash register.
She couldn't really blame him.
Out here, strangers probably stood out.
And she most definitely looked like one.
Avoiding eye contact, Michelle made her way directly toward the refrigerated section. Rows of colorful cans lined the glass doors. She quickly located her prize, grabbed a sugar-free Red Bull, then paused.
A display of candy bars caught her attention.
She selected a few and tossed them into her basket.
You know, just in case my blood sugar decides to stage a dramatic rebellion.
The thought amused her enough to make her chuckle under her breath.
Taking her time, she wandered through the aisles toward the front of the store. Halfway there, the front door swung open again.
A woman who appeared to be in her late twenties stepped inside. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and frustration radiated from every movement she made. Close behind her followed a man who looked equally irritated.
Their voices were low, but the tension between them was impossible to miss.
The woman muttered something sharp over her shoulder.
The man immediately fired back.
Michelle didn't catch the words, but she didn't need to.
The argument was obvious.
A month ago, the scene might have struck a nerve. Today, it only reinforced how relieved she felt to be alone.
Yeah... definitely not missing that.
Suppressing another smile, she adjusted her basket and headed toward the cash register before she found herself tempted to linger and watch the rest of the drama unfold.
Michelle had no intention of sticking around to witness the rest of the couple's argument.
Whatever was happening between them belonged to them, and she had driven hundreds of miles to get away from exactly that kind of drama. This weekend was supposed to be different. Peaceful. Simple.
She paid for her items, exchanged a polite nod with the cashier, and headed back outside.
The warm summer air greeted her as she crossed the parking lot. A few birds chirped somewhere in the distance, and the faint scent of pine drifted through the breeze. Everything felt calm, untouched by the stress and noise she had left behind.
Sliding into the driver's seat of her SUV, she closed the door and let out a quiet sigh.
For a moment, she simply sat there.
Then she reached for the sugar-free Red Bull.
The metallic click of the can echoed softly inside the vehicle. Michelle lifted it to her lips and took a long sip.
A flicker of guilt surfaced before she could stop it.
Not long ago, her ex would have immediately commented on it. He would have reminded her how unhealthy it was, how much caffeine it contained, and why she should be drinking water instead.
The memory made her shake her head.
Nobody was there to lecture her anymore.
Nobody was there to criticize the little things she enjoyed.
A small smile appeared on her face as she took another sip.
She started the SUV and pulled back onto the road.
The final stretch toward the Airbnb wound through dense forests and quiet country roads. Sunlight filtered through the towering trees, casting shifting patterns across the pavement. Every mile seemed to carry her farther away from her responsibilities, her worries, and the life she had temporarily placed on hold.
As she drove, her thoughts drifted to the weekend ahead.
The listing had mentioned complimentary paddleboards available for guests. She had never been particularly skilled at paddleboarding, but the idea sounded fun. Relaxing. Exactly the kind of thing someone did when they weren't rushing from one obligation to the next.
For once, there was nowhere she needed to be.
Nothing she needed to fix.
No one demanding her attention.
Just an entire weekend stretching out before her.
About twenty-five minutes later, she turned onto a narrow gravel driveway.
The trees gradually opened up, revealing the property.
Michelle slowed the SUV and stared.
The word escaped before she realized she had spoken aloud.
The Airbnb was even more beautiful than the photographs had suggested. The small house sat near the water's edge, its clean modern design blending naturally with the surrounding forest. It looked recently built, with large windows reflecting the afternoon sunlight.
Beyond the house stretched a breathtaking lake.
The water was perfectly still, its glasslike surface reflecting the blue sky and the endless line of trees surrounding it. Not a single boat disturbed the tranquility. The only sounds came from distant birds and the gentle rustle of leaves moving in the breeze.
The sight immediately eased something inside her.
After weeks of stress, frustration, and emotional exhaustion, this felt like exactly where she was supposed to be.
Michelle parked the SUV and gazed out at the lake for another moment.
Somewhere in the back of the vehicle sat a bottle of her favorite white wine, carefully packed among her bags. She could already picture herself sitting outside later that evening, a chilled glass in hand, watching the sunset paint the water in shades of gold and orange.
For the first time in a very long while, she felt genuinely excited about the days ahead.
The weekend had finally begun.
Michelle climbed out of her SUV and opened the rear hatch. The peaceful silence surrounding the property was almost startling after hours spent on the road. Apart from the occasional chirp of a bird and the gentle rustling of leaves overhead, the lakeside retreat seemed completely still.
She grabbed her suitcase, a grocery bag, and a few other belongings before making her way toward the house.
The closer she got, the more she appreciated the property's charm. The Airbnb was cozy without feeling cramped, modern without appearing cold. Large windows overlooked the lake, allowing sunlight to spill across the exterior. It looked exactly like the kind of place someone would choose when they wanted to disappear from the world for a few days.
And for the entire weekend, it would belong to her.
The thought filled her with a quiet sense of satisfaction.
Reaching the front entrance, Michelle set her bags down and turned her attention to the black lockbox mounted beside the door.
The owner had emailed her the access code earlier that week. All she needed to do was enter the numbers, retrieve the key, and start enjoying her getaway.
She punched in the code and heard a soft click.
The small metal door swung open.
For a moment, she simply stared at them.
A faint crease appeared between her eyebrows as she leaned closer.
One key looked identical to the other.
Without thinking, she reached into her purse and pulled out her iPhone. Her thumb hovered over the screen as she considered sending a quick message to the owner.
Hi. Just a quick question. There are two keys in the lockbox. Is that normal?
The message suddenly seemed ridiculous.
Michelle let out a quiet laugh and lowered the phone.
"Aww, come on, Michelle. It's just a spare."
Her own voice sounded oddly loud in the stillness surrounding the house.
That had to be the explanation.
Lots of rental owners probably left backup keys for guests. There was nothing strange about it.
A familiar internal debate immediately began to unfold.
Part of her wanted to leave the second key exactly where it was. Another part insisted she should bring it inside. What if she accidentally lost the first key during the weekend? Having access to a backup could save her a major headache.
Then again, if she locked the house, took the primary key with her, and somehow lost it while she was out, a spare key sitting inside the cabin would be completely useless.
Michelle sighed and shook her head.
She had barely arrived, and already her brain was finding problems to solve.
Some things never changed.
After a final glance at the lockbox, she slipped one of the keys into her pocket and picked up her luggage. The second key remained where it was, tucked safely inside the metal compartment.
Satisfied with her decision, she unlocked the front door and stepped inside, unaware that the question of the second key would linger in the back of her mind far longer than it should have.
Michelle stepped inside the cabin and immediately felt a smile spread across her face. The interior was exactly as she had hoped it would be. Sunlight streamed through the large windows overlooking the lake, casting a warm glow across the hardwood floors. The space felt clean, modern, and inviting without being overly luxurious. It was spacious enough to feel comfortable, yet small enough to remain cozy. Everything about the place seemed designed for relaxation.
She took a slow look around, appreciating the quiet that surrounded her. There were no ringing phones, no impatient customers, and no endless list of responsibilities waiting for her attention. For the first time in what felt like forever, she had nowhere to be and nothing demanding her immediate focus.
Carrying her suitcase down the short hallway, she entered the main bedroom and set her luggage beside the bed. The room was simple but charming, with soft linens, rustic décor, and another beautiful view of the lake beyond the window. Michelle stood there for a moment, admiring the scenery. She could have unpacked right away, but the thought quickly disappeared. Her clothes would still be there later. This weekend was about slowing down, not following a schedule. There was no reason to rush, and more importantly, there was no one around to tell her otherwise.
Feeling pleasantly relaxed, she headed back to the kitchen. The bottle of white wine she had carefully packed for the trip was among the supplies in her portable cooler. She uncorked it and poured herself a glass before beginning to unpack the rest of her groceries. Fresh fruit, cheese, vegetables, and prepared meals quickly found their place inside the refrigerator. The familiar routine felt strangely satisfying in her temporary lakeside home.
Once everything was put away, Michelle picked up her wine glass and stepped outside. The warmth of the late afternoon sun greeted her as she crossed the front porch and followed the short path leading toward the lake. The water stretched out before her like polished glass, reflecting the surrounding trees and the clear blue sky overhead. A gentle breeze moved across the shoreline, carrying the scent of pine and fresh water.
At the end of the wooden dock sat two Adirondack chairs facing the lake. Michelle lowered herself into one of them and let out a quiet sigh of contentment. Cradling her wine glass between her hands, she settled back and admired the view. The lake was perfectly calm. No boats crossed the water, and no voices disturbed the peaceful atmosphere. The only sounds came from distant birds and the soft rustling of leaves in the surrounding forest.
She took a sip of wine and closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. Everything felt exactly as she had imagined during the long drive. The stress of the past few months seemed farther away with each passing minute. For once, she wasn't thinking about work, her ex-boyfriend, or any of the frustrations she had left behind.
As she opened her eyes again, a sudden realization struck her.
The opened can was still sitting in the cup holder of her SUV.
Michelle groaned softly and shook her head. She could practically picture it baking inside the vehicle beneath the summer heat. By now it was probably warm, flat, and completely ruined. For a brief moment she considered getting up to retrieve it, but the thought vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.
She glanced at the sparkling lake, took another sip of her wine, and settled deeper into the chair. The Red Bull could take care of itself. Right now, she was exactly where she wanted to be, and nothing short of an emergency was going to convince her to move.
Before she realized it, Michelle had finished her glass of wine.
The realization made her smile to herself. Under normal circumstances, she might have paid more attention to how quickly she was drinking, but there was something about the peacefulness of the lake that made time feel irrelevant. The gentle lapping of water against the dock, the warmth of the late afternoon sun on her skin, and the complete absence of responsibilities had combined into a rare feeling she had not experienced in quite some time.
Content, she settled deeper into the Adirondack chair and stretched her legs out in front of her. The breeze coming off the lake carried the scent of pine trees and fresh water. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called from the forest before the sound faded into the surrounding silence.
Michelle closed her eyes.
For weeks, she had been carrying tension without fully realizing it. Every day had seemed filled with obligations, worries, and endless demands on her time. Now, sitting beside the lake with nowhere to be and nothing expected of her, she felt that weight gradually slipping away.
The stress that had followed her for months seemed to dissolve into the warm summer air.
Without meaning to, she drifted off to sleep.
An hour later, a sharp vibration against the wooden armrest beside her slowly pulled her from her slumber.
Michelle frowned and blinked against the fading afternoon sunlight. For a moment, she wasn't entirely sure where she was. The lake stretched before her, calm and undisturbed, while the forest remained bathed in golden light.
Then her phone vibrated again.
She reached for it and immediately understood the reason for the notification.
Unlike emails, text messages, social media alerts, and work-related interruptions, this was one notification she would never silence.
The sensor attached to her arm continuously transmitted information to her smartphone, alerting her whenever her blood sugar levels moved outside a safe range. As she looked at the screen, she saw the warning she had expected.
Her glucose level was dropping.
Michelle sat up straighter in the chair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The situation wasn't an emergency, but it wasn't something she could ignore either. She needed carbohydrates, preferably between fifteen and twenty grams, to bring her levels back up.
That was precisely why she had purchased candy bars at the grocery store earlier. They were easy to carry, worked quickly, and could solve the problem within minutes if necessary.
Still, dinner was already waiting inside.
Carrying her empty wine glass back toward the cabin, Michelle stepped inside and headed straight for the kitchen. The cool air inside felt refreshing after being outside in the sun. Opening the refrigerator, she retrieved the container of pasta and Bolognese sauce she had prepared before leaving home.
The meal wasn't fancy, but that had never been the point.
She had cooked it ahead of time because she knew this weekend was supposed to be about relaxing, not spending hours standing over a stove. Lately, she had barely had enough energy to get through her workdays. The last thing she wanted during her getaway was another task demanding her attention.
She placed the container in the microwave and watched the timer count down.
A minute later, the aroma of warm tomato sauce and seasoned meat filled the kitchen.
Michelle carried the plate to the dining table and began eating. The familiar meal brought a comforting sense of normalcy. Outside the large windows, the lake shimmered beneath the evening sun, and for a moment she found herself admiring the view between bites.
Once she finished eating, she placed her plate in the sink and glanced at the time.
She would give it fifteen minutes before checking her glucose level again. Hopefully the pasta would raise it enough to bring her back into a comfortable range without sending it too high.
Managing diabetes often felt like a balancing act, one she had become accustomed to over the years. Too low created one set of problems. Too high created another. If her blood sugar climbed beyond where she wanted it, she would simply reach for her insulin pen and make the necessary correction.
For now, all she could do was wait.
Standing by the window overlooking the lake, Michelle wrapped her arms loosely around herself and watched the sunlight dance across the water. The peaceful scene outside reminded her why she had come here in the first place.
For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could finally breathe.
Time passed peacefully inside the cabin, and by the time Michelle finished brushing her teeth and checked the readings on her smartphone, her glucose level had stabilized. The numbers on the screen were exactly where she wanted them to be. Satisfied, she set her phone down on the bathroom counter and allowed herself a small smile.
One less thing to worry about.
About twenty minutes after dinner, she found herself drawn back outside.
The evening air had cooled slightly since her afternoon nap, carrying a freshness that hadn't been there earlier. As she stepped onto the porch, the scent of pine trees and lake water greeted her once again. The surrounding forest seemed quieter now, as though it were settling in for the night.
Michelle followed the familiar path toward the dock.
The wooden boards creaked softly beneath her feet as she walked to the end and lowered herself into one of the Adirondack chairs. Leaning back comfortably, she stretched her legs out in front of her and let her gaze wander across the lake.
The water remained calm, reflecting the fading daylight like a mirror.
For several minutes, she simply sat there in silence.
Then something caught her attention.
Far in the distance, beyond the opposite shoreline, an enormous cloud was beginning to rise into the evening sky. Its shape immediately stood out from the others. Towering and imposing, it climbed higher and higher, its upper edges glowing white in the last rays of sunlight while its lower half darkened into shades of gray and blue.
Michelle sat forward slightly.
The word escaped her lips in little more than a whisper.
She recognized the cloud immediately.
Even from this distance, it looked impressive.
The massive formation continued to grow, spreading across the horizon like a slowly unfolding mountain of vapor. The setting sun illuminated portions of it in brilliant shades of gold and silver, creating a breathtaking contrast against the darker sky gathering behind it.
For a moment, Michelle simply admired the spectacle.
There was something fascinating about thunderstorms when they remained far away. She had always enjoyed watching them from the safety of her apartment back home. Wrapped in a blanket, listening to the rain strike the windows, she could spend hours watching lightning flash across the sky.
Out here, however, things felt different.
The realization settled quietly into the back of her mind.
She was no longer in her apartment.
She was alone in a cabin surrounded by dense forest, miles away from neighbors, city lights, and the comforting sounds of civilization. The trees that had seemed so beautiful during the day now appeared taller and darker as evening approached. Their silhouettes formed an endless wall around the property.
Michelle folded her arms across her chest and continued studying the distant cloud.
The storm might pass several miles away without ever reaching the lake. Weather forecasts were wrong all the time.
Still, she couldn't completely ignore the uneasy feeling beginning to stir inside her.
What if it came this way?
What if it turned into one of those powerful summer storms she occasionally saw on the news?
A faint breeze crossed the lake, rippling the previously smooth surface of the water.
Michelle watched the movement carefully.
The change was subtle, almost insignificant, but she noticed it nonetheless.
The woods seemed quieter now.
As though nature itself had sensed the approaching weather long before she had.
She glanced once more toward the towering cumulonimbus cloud dominating the distant horizon. Despite the slight nervousness creeping into her thoughts, she couldn't deny its beauty. It was magnificent in a way that felt both mesmerizing and intimidating.
For the moment, all she could do was sit back in her chair and watch the sky evolve, hoping the storm would remain a distant spectacle rather than an unwelcome visitor to her peaceful weekend retreat.
Unfortunately for Michelle, the storm had no intention of avoiding the lake.
Over the next forty-five minutes, she found herself returning to the dock several times, unable to resist watching the sky transform. What had started as a distant cumulonimbus cloud had grown into a towering wall of darkness stretching across much of the horizon. Lightning flickered deep within its core, illuminating sections of the cloud from within before darkness reclaimed them seconds later. The display was mesmerizing, but there was no denying the truth anymore. The storm was coming her way.
The wind had also begun to change. Cool gusts skimmed across the lake's surface, creating ripples where the water had previously been smooth as glass. The surrounding trees swayed gently, their leaves whispering together in the gathering darkness. Eventually, another flash of lightning lit up the distant shoreline, followed by a low rumble of thunder. It was still far enough away not to be threatening, but close enough to convince Michelle that her evening on the dock was over.
With a reluctant sigh, she rose from the Adirondack chair and made her way back toward the cabin. As she climbed the porch steps, she glanced over her shoulder one last time at the approaching storm. There was something beautiful about it, but beauty and comfort were not always the same thing. A thunderstorm viewed from an apartment building in the city felt very different from one viewed alone in a cabin surrounded by miles of forest.
Once inside, Michelle locked the door and headed upstairs. Since the weather was pushing her indoors for the night, a hot shower suddenly sounded like the perfect way to relax. Yet the moment she reached the second floor, her mind immediately betrayed her. New worries began surfacing from nowhere, each one more ridiculous than the last.
What if the power went out?
Did this place even have a generator?
Were there emergency lights hidden somewhere?
What if she ended up sitting alone in complete darkness while a thunderstorm raged outside?
Michelle stopped in the hallway and rolled her eyes at herself.
"Come on, Michelle. Stop being dramatic. Nothing's going to happen."
The words sounded reassuring enough, even if she wasn't entirely convinced. Trying to distract herself, she entered the bedroom and opened her suitcase. Since she planned on showering before settling in for the evening, she searched for her pajamas, clean underwear, and toiletries. Among them were her favorite Au Lait body wash and body lotion from The Scottish Fine Soaps Company. The comforting scent had become something of a ritual for her over the years. Soft and clean, with notes that reminded her of fresh linen and baby powder, it always managed to make her feel relaxed.
A few minutes later, she entered the bathroom and set her things on the counter. Before opening the glass shower door, however, her eyes instinctively traveled upward toward the ceiling. It happened every single time she entered a shower, regardless of where she was.
Michelle had been terrified of spiders since childhood. The fear had intensified years earlier while living in Arizona, after an encounter with a particularly large spider that she still preferred not to think about. Since then, checking shower ceilings had become second nature. It was a reflex she couldn't suppress, no matter how irrational she knew it was.
Carefully scanning every corner above the shower, she found nothing.
Nothing waiting to ruin her evening.
Satisfied, she finally stepped inside and turned on the hot water. The warmth cascaded over her shoulders and immediately eased some of the tension she had been carrying. She shampooed her short blonde hair, worked conditioner through it, and took her time washing away the sweat and sunscreen from the day. The steady sound of water and the comforting scent of her body wash gradually pushed her earlier worries into the background.
By the time she finished shaving her legs and underarms, she felt considerably more relaxed.
Stepping out of the shower, Michelle wrapped herself in a towel and dried off before applying the matching Au Lait body lotion. The familiar fragrance lingered on her skin, leaving her feeling refreshed and comfortable. She slipped into her blue-and-white pajamas and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were still slightly pink from the hot water, and her damp blonde hair framed her face in soft waves.
The evening was finally beginning to feel peaceful again.
She opened the bathroom door with every intention of returning to the bedroom to apply some of her favorite nighttime body mist before settling down for the rest of the evening.
At first, she told herself it was probably the storm. Perhaps the wind had rattled something outside. Maybe a branch had struck part of the house. There had to be a reasonable explanation.
Not a violent slam caused by weather, but the unmistakable sound of a door opening and closing the way someone would close it after entering a house.
The blood drained from her face.
She was supposed to be alone.
Standing motionless in the middle of the hallway, Michelle listened intently. Her heart had begun pounding so hard she could feel it against her ribs. Every sound inside the cabin suddenly seemed amplified. For several seconds, she hoped she had imagined it, that her overactive imagination had somehow transformed an ordinary noise into something frightening.
Then footsteps echoed from downstairs.
The sound sent a chill through her.
The voice wasn't aggressive. If anything, it sounded confused. That fact did little to calm her nerves. Whoever he was, he certainly wasn't supposed to be inside the cabin.
"Hello?" the man called again. "Is anyone here?"
Michelle remained silent.
Every instinct told her not to answer.
At the same time, she needed to know who had entered the house.
Taking a slow breath, she gathered what courage she could and began moving toward the staircase. Her bare feet made almost no sound against the hardwood floor. The hallway suddenly felt longer than before, and each step seemed to take forever.
When she finally reached the top of the stairs, she cautiously looked down.
A man stood inside the cabin.
She had never seen him before.
He didn't appear threatening, nor did he seem like someone who had broken in. If anything, he looked as surprised by the situation as she was. That only made the entire encounter more confusing.
Michelle studied him from the safety of the second-floor landing. He was tall, remarkably tall, standing somewhere around six-foot-four. Although she hated herself for noticing under the circumstances, he was undeniably handsome. He appeared to be in his early fifties, with dark hair showing little sign of gray and the athletic build of someone who took care of himself.
Their eyes met across the cabin.
The man's expression immediately shifted when he noticed the petite blonde woman standing near the staircase. Michelle swallowed hard, her pulse racing as reality settled over her.
And whoever this man was, he clearly hadn't expected to find her there either.
The confusion in the man's hazel eyes was immediate and unmistakable when he spotted the petite blonde woman standing frozen near the staircase. For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds in the cabin were the distant rumble of thunder and the steady rain tapping against the large windows.
The stranger was the first to recover.
"Hi. I'm Michael," he said gently, raising one hand in a reassuring gesture. His voice was calm and measured, as though he were trying not to frighten a startled animal. "Are you staying here?"
Michelle shook her head before realizing she had misunderstood the question. Her pulse was still racing, making it difficult to think clearly. The sudden appearance of a stranger inside what was supposed to be her private weekend retreat had left her completely shaken.
Michael frowned slightly as he tried to make sense of the situation.
"Alright," he said after a moment. "Then I think I know what happened. The owner must have booked us for the same weekend."
A short laugh escaped him, though it carried more disbelief than amusement. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen. Keeping a respectful distance, he held it up so Michelle could see the reservation confirmation displayed in his email.
Even from where she stood, it looked legitimate.
As her initial panic began to fade, confusion took its place. It certainly seemed possible that the owner had made a mistake. Still, that did not solve the problem.
This was supposed to be her weekend.
The entire reason she had come to Maine was to spend a few days alone, away from people, responsibilities, and conversations she didn't feel like having.
Taking a cautious breath, Michelle slowly descended a few steps.
"Look," she said carefully, choosing her words with deliberate precision, "I don't know why the owner double-booked the cabin, but I arrived first. I'm not leaving."
Michael listened without interrupting. A small smile touched his lips, though there was no sign of mockery in it. Outside, the storm had fully arrived. Rain now pounded against the windows, and occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened lake beyond.
He glanced briefly toward the weather outside before returning his attention to Michelle.
"That's fair," he replied. "You were here first, and I respect that. I'm not asking you to leave."
The tension in Michelle's shoulders eased slightly.
Michael slipped his phone back into his pocket and continued.
"Would you mind if I slept on the couch for the night? I've been driving all day, and honestly, I'm exhausted. There aren't exactly a lot of hotels around here. I'll email Victor, the owner. I've known him for years, and I'll explain what happened. I'll also make sure he refunds your entire weekend for the inconvenience."
His expression remained sincere.
"I'll be gone first thing in the morning. Does that sound reasonable, Miss...?"
Michelle studied him carefully.
The storm was growing stronger by the minute. Thunder rolled across the lake, and another flash of lightning briefly illuminated the living room. Under different circumstances, she would have refused immediately. Yet the thought of spending the night completely alone during a violent thunderstorm was becoming less appealing with each passing minute.
Besides, Michael had been polite since the moment he'd entered.
He wasn't demanding anything.
He wasn't being aggressive.
If anything, he looked almost as inconvenienced by the situation as she was.
Slowly, Michelle descended the rest of the staircase.
"Show me the reservation again, please."
Michael handed her the phone without hesitation.
This time she examined the details more closely. The dates matched her own reservation exactly. The cabin address was identical. Everything appeared legitimate.
When she returned the phone, Michael offered a small smile.
"See? I'm not lying. I'll send Victor an email right now and explain everything. Tomorrow morning, I'll be out of your hair."
For the first time since discovering him inside the cabin, Michelle felt some of her fear begin to fade. Now that she was standing closer, she could see him more clearly. He was tall, easily over six feet, with an athletic build and a confident but relaxed presence. He carried himself well, and there was something undeniably attractive about him.
The thought caught her off guard.
Immediately, she scolded herself.
You don't even know this man.
Shaking the thought away, she focused on the situation at hand. The last thing she needed was to let her imagination wander. Right now, all that mattered was figuring out how two complete strangers had somehow ended up renting the same cabin on the same stormy weekend.
And judging by the look on Michael's face, he was wondering exactly the same thing.
