To say Miles was infuriated with Sugar was an understatement of the century. Since the unexpected trip began, they barely spoke to each other and if they did, it was a posed question that could easily be answered with a yes or a no. You hungry? Yes. Wanna pull at a rest stop? No. Need me to turn up the heat? Okay. Your legs alright? Yes. You want a blanket from the trunk? No, I’m good. For him to be angry as he was with her, he always made sure that she was comfortable during the entirety of the eighteen-hour trip, which made her feel even more guilty for doing what she did. She replayed her mistakes repeatedly within the depths of her mind and though she was wrong for being sneaky and lying, she had her reasons.

It was never her intention to hurt Miles or give him reason to distrust her. However, since their return from Louisiana, their relationship changed and most importantly, he changed. Louisiana broke him and she tried to help him put himself back together again, but he came out with rough jagged edges. His smiles and laughs were a treasured rarity. At night, there was an ocean of space between them, which he used to toss and turn as he suffered through nightmares. His protective nature of her were like constricting ivy vines. As of late, reasoning with him was often a futile effort, so she picked her battles wisely and attending Norman’s funeral was a war she wanted to avoid altogether.

Now, she knew that she should’ve have just been upfront about it from the very beginning whether he liked it or not. There were a lot of things she should’ve done, but the damage was already done and the reminder of said damage came in the form of a text message from Mallory—of all people.

As they drove along the interstate toward Maine, she looked at what her nosey little brother sent her.

Mallory: Look who I saw at the hospital last night!

Mallory: (photo attachment)

Sugar widened her eyes at the crisp picture of Lance with a battered face sitting in a chair in a crowded ER waiting room. Feigning innocence, she sent a message back.

Sugar: OMG, what happened?

Mallory: Apparently, some young thugs jumped limp-dick Lance and stole his fancy wristwatch. LMAO!

She supposed that was a better explanation to tell than ‘My ex-wife’s baby daddy beat the living daylights out of me in the middle of a rainstorm’.

Sugar: That’s not funny, Lory.

Sugar: Wait, why were YOU at the hospital anyway?

Mallory: Delivered some sweet treats to well-deserving ER nurses.

Sugar rolled her eyes sharply and snorted, shaking her head. There was no doubt in her mind that one of those ‘well-deserving ER nurses’ was the latest lady-friend who had caught his short attention and appealed to his ever-shifting appetite. She looked up from her cellphone and glanced over to the driver, her gazes locking with his. As it seemed, she, too, had caught someone’s attention. She cleared her throat nervously and shifted her focus to the world that whipped by her window.

Well after crossing into Maine, they made a pit stop at a quaint mom-and-pop grocery store in a quintessential town that looked like it would be the perfect setting for a postcard or a Lifetime movie. Upon entering, Miles grabbed a shopping cart and combed through each aisle, filling up the basket with enough ingredients to last them a few weeks thereby sparking Sugar’s curiosity.

What in the world was he planning?

“How long do we intend on staying here?”

She still had no clue where ‘here’ was. Throughout the nineteen-hour trip, she played a guessing game as to where their final destination would be. As he continued northbound through New England, she mentally crossed off her inaccurate predictions each time the car passed over a new state line. As the list dwindled, she began to suspect that Maine was the winner. Canada would’ve been a likely candidate if not for the fact neither of them brought their passports.

Now, that they were in Maine, she had a feeling that this town was nothing but a pit stop.

“Ain’t sure yet,” he answered, turning the shopping cart into the fresh produce section.

She frowned. “Miles, that’s not a good enough answer.”

There was so much to be done back at the homefront. Her parents’ wedding anniversary was next week and a flood of relatives were coming from all over to celebrate. Though all of the planning were meticulously handled by her mother, all of the Hartwell siblings were each assigned a personalized list of tasks. Being that the empty space above Sugar Mama would be the chosen venue, Sugar’s load of responsibilities was much heavier than her brothers and sisters.

The upcoming celebration was very important to Sugar. If not to recognize her parents’ blissful forty years of marriage, but also announce the news of her so-far successful pregnancy as an anniversary gift.

“At least, it’s an answer and at least it’s the truth,” he countered smoothly as he picked up a russet potato and examined with a turn of a wrist. Sugar ran her tongue across her teeth, her face scrunching at the stinging dig. She reached into his backpocket and fished out the car keys.

“You know what? I’m just going to wait in the car,” she said before she walked off. She did as she promised for twenty-eight minutes (yes, she counted).

After the groceries were packed into the trunk, Miles got behind the wheel again and drove out of the small town. Venturing them into woodsy backroads for what seemed like forever, he turned the car down a road where wooden sign loomed at the corner with the words ‘COZY CABINS’ carved and painted on it.

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Their cabin was nestled by a quiet lake and surrounded by a glorious forest. Browned pine needles and fallen leaves blanketed the grassy grounds, crunching underneath her feet as she exited the car. The afternoon sunlight bled through the trees, splashing its claim wherever it could. Under different circumstances, Sugar would have been in utter awe at the breathtaking beauty that surrounded her, but in that moment, she was in no mood to appreciate nature.

“Here.” He threw the cabin key in her direction and she caught it with ease.

She marched up the porch steps and opened the front door. All she wanted to do was find the bedroom and lock herself in it. According to the glossy brochure she picked up in the main lodge while Miles checked them in, Cozy Cabins prided itself for being a premier location for couples seeking a romantic getaway. Though a romantic getaway was promised being here didn’t feel “romantic”.

In fact, it felt more like a waste of time. What was the point of coming all the way here if they would only bicker as enemies and instead of enjoy each other as lovers?

She entered the cabin, lingering near the open doorway with a gaping jaw as she discovered that the only way she could lock herself away was by using the key in her hand on the front door.

Sugar now understood why Cozy Cabins touted itself as cozy. At the center of the cabin was a California king-size bed draped in deep red bedding. A few feet from the foot of the bed was a Jacuzzi bathtub. A door to a half-bathroom lingered nearby. To the north was a dead fireplace with a bearskin rug and a leather armchair tucked away in a corner to overlook it. Directly to her left was the egress to the snug kitchen. A table for eating was stationed near the front windows, a vase of fresh red roses surrounded by unlit candles at its heart.

She removed her shoes and climbed into the bed dejectedly, snuggling her head against the mountain of pillows. Even as Miles drifted in and out of the cabin, bringing in groceries and their luggage, she tuned out the commotion as she fell asleep.

Hours later, she stirred awake.

Miles rested in the leather chair by the fireplace now alive with dancing flames and crackling wood, but his gray eyes were fixed solely on her.

She sat up slowly, running her fingers through her tresses and yawned. “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” he responded.

She glanced at the windows, noting the slither of night in between the floral curtain. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You seemed so peaceful,” he uttered, stroking his beard.

Sugar chewed on her bottom lip momentarily, tracing invisible patterns on the Valentine red comforter with intricate gold threading. “Why did you bring us here, Miles?”

“We needed to get away from the madness.”

She frowned. “How can we get away from the madness if I’m the one who caused it? And I know you’re mad at me for it.”

“You’re damn right I’m mad. You lied to me repeatedly after I gave you chance after chance to tell the truth, Sugar,” he said, a bite in his voice. “You snuck off to go to a funeral, made your receptionist lie to me as an effort to cover your tracks. You got in a car with that motherfucker thereby jeopardizing your safety and the safety of our unborn child, which was the perfect opportunity for him to force himself on you. Meanwhile, I’m waiting in your office worrying about you. I had no idea where you were.”

“That’s the problem, Miles! Ever since we got back from Louisiana, you always want to know where I am. The drive-bys, the phone calls, the text messages, the random pop-ups! It’s all suffocating! I’ve been walking on goddamn eggshells trying not to get on your bad side,” she vented, frustration building up within her. “I should have woman’d up and told you I wanted to go to the funeral, but I knew you’d vehemently oppose because of Lance. It had nothing to do with Lance. Norman was my father-in-law for eighteen years and he had a special place in my heart.”

Her voice cracked as speaking of Norman’s death hit a raw nerve. She cocked her chin up to look at the ceiling and exhaled a shaky breath, hot tears stinging the backside of her eyes.

“I didn’t go to the funeral to defy you or bond with Lance. I went to the funeral to pay my respects to a man who was a second father to me,” she said, a teardrop rolled down her cheek before she brushed it away. “I went to that funeral for my closure, Miles, and I’m sorry I betrayed your trust as a result, but I’m not sorry for going. I know you’re trying to protect me from bad things, but I don’t need a prison guard. I need a partner.”

His silence unnerved her, an insecure piece of her mistaking it for apathy.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” Sugar flung back the covers and kicked her legs over the edge, yanking on her shoes without even bothering to tie them. She stormed out of the cozy cabin and slammed the door behind her, desperately wiping away at her tears.

Fuck him.

Furthermore, fuck Cozy Cabins and by proxy Maine.

A soft moonlight bathed the world in cool shades of blue. The lake glimmered peacefully and the woods were still all around. There was a chill in the air that made her hug herself, but tolerable enough to not have a need to go back into the cabin to get a jacket. She collapsed into a cushioned wicker chair on the porch. Though she wanted to get as far from this cabin as possible, she wasn’t about to trek through a forest in the dead of night.

She clenched her jaw and hugged herself tighter, pretending not to notice the cabin door easing open from her peripheral and Miles coming outside.

“I need you to be mad at me inside where it’s nice and warm.”

“I like where I am, thanks,” Sugar replied, staring out into the forest, “which I guess should be a plus for you since you always want to know where I am, right?”

He nodded, finding a spot on a porch step. “If you ain’t gonna budge then I’ll join you.”

They stayed in their respective places, the circumjacent scenery spoke volumes with the rustling waves of the lake and the breezes whispering between the trees.

Miles bowed his head, smoothing a hand over his hair. “You say I ain’t been the same since Louisiana, but the fact of the matter is I ain’t been the same in a long time. I just happen to do a mighty good job at adapting to how fucked up I’m gettin’.”

She turned her focus to his back, tilting her head.

“Knowing the truth about my daughter twisted me up real bad and having to tell Alicia pushed me damn near the edge,” he said. “She hung up on me after I told her the truth. She called back later and apologized, but I could almost hear it in her voice. The blame, I mean. Maybe, it was all in my head ‘cause I blame me. I was supposed to protect our daughter, but I didn’t. Now, I’ve got a second chance to do this right and I wanna protect that baby with all I got. I wanna protect you with all I got and I got outta hand. I’ve become a person I don’t like. I’m gettin’ mean and bitter...like my father.”

Worry coursed through her veins at his self-directed accusation. Sugar got off the chair quickly and sat beside him on the porch step. “You’re nothing like your father, Miles. Nothing like him. I know you want to protect us, but sometimes, protection isn’t holding somebody tight and never letting go. Protecting someone is a mutual understanding. A partnership. A perfect balance of giving and taking.”

Sugar leaned in and whispered tenderly in his ear, “Do you remember what you told me at the jazz club after our first dance?”

“I’ll give, you take,” he answered.

“Mm hm,” she hummed, smiling warmly. “After all that taking I was doing, I ended up giving you a baby. A perfect balance as I said.”

His shoulders shook as he chuckled throatily. It had seemed like forever since she had heard the rich melodious sound, but her eyelids fluttered shut and savored it. He turned his head, nuzzling his nose against hers—a prelude to a profound kiss.

“I’m sorry for lying,” she murmured.

He brushed his lips against hers, trailing the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip.

“This is the part where you say, ‘Darlin’, I apologize for bein’ an overprotective jackass and I’ll try to do better’,” she teased, imitating his rumbly southern accented voice.

Instead, he finally closed in on her. When their parted lips touched, their tongues sought each other eagerly. A drawn moan trapped itself in the back of her throat as his dominating mouth demanded her to take what he was giving her. His calloused hand cupped her cheek at first, entangling itself into her hair and cupping the back of her head to trap her in place as he kissed her hungrily.

A cool breeze sliced through the air, making her shiver violently. Miles broke away from her and rose, pulling her up with him and scooping up the backside of her thighs in one fell swoop—hoisting her up against him with a slight grunt.

“Still waiting on that apology, Miles,” She laughed as she showered kisses all over his bearded face. Her arms slithered around his inked neck for support.

“I wanna work for your forgiveness, honey.”

He climbed the steps and sauntered into their cozy cabin, kicking the door shut with his foot.