Our accommodations were much the same as they were in Killington. In Vermont, a cabin, is a cabin, is a cabin. Not much difference unless for some reason you do not have electricity; which is entirely possible at times on the blustery winter evenings. That evening, Samantha and I laid on the cabin porch and gazed up at the stars for hours. The universe had applied us with a "Supermoon" that evening, so the sky was lit up like a Christmas morning; or evening perhaps.

We talked more about me coming to Boston. It was evident to me that she wanted to continue the journey that we had started just a few days prior. And frankly, I was more that alright with this idea. Boston for her was a place of magic. And while she was unsettled about her career path, she knew it would soon be time to make a decision. It was the first time that I felt like an advisor to her, and I agreed as we went along and talked about it to help her figure things out. This gave her a calm feeling inside, she mentioned; so our conversation turned back to focusing on the final days of our vacation.

We would make love that nite, and all seemed right with the world.