-vrbangers- Veronica Leal - Zen Getaway -

The trail was her only escape. Steep, root-tangled, veiled in the breath of orchids. She walked fast, her hiking boots crunching on volcanic stone, until the lodge's new-age hum faded behind a curtain of dripping ferns. That was when she heard it—not silence, but a different kind of noise.

Veronica felt the retort rise—witty, deflective, polished from a thousand boardroom battles. But it died on her tongue. Because he wasn't playing the game. No namaste. No chakra talk. Just a man splitting wood, sweat tracking down the ridges of his spine, asking a question she didn't want to answer. -VRBangers- Veronica Leal - Zen Getaway

By the time the sun bled orange through the canopy, she was sitting on his porch, barefoot, a glass of something dark and smoky in her hand. Leo cooked with his back to her, the cast-iron hissing, the scent of garlic and thyme cutting through the jungle's wet-earth sweetness. He didn't try to fill the space with words. Neither did she. The trail was her only escape