Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Sienna
The sun feels like liquid gold on my skin as I stretch out on the lounger by the pool. Every inch of me is relaxed, sun-kissed, and happy in a way I never imagined possible.
Milo sits beside me, our legs loosely tangled. His deep, gravelly voice wraps around each word as he reads the final chapters of my favorite romance novel aloud. Somehow, he makes every line feel like I’m hearing it for the first time.
His hand rests casually on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles just above my knee.
He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore.
Over the past two weeks, it’s become our secret language: the gentle press of his thumb when my thoughts start spinning too fast, the soft squeeze when I drift too far into my own head.
Right now, my brain is a whirlwind. In three days, we fly back to New York.
I keep wondering what “seeing how things go” will look like once we’re no longer wrapped in this perfect island bubble.
Will this steady, grounded feeling hold up to subway delays, work stress, and gray winter mornings?
Or will the magic fade the moment we leave the turquoise water and palm trees behind?
Every time my knee starts its anxious bounce, Milo’s thumb presses a little firmer, anchoring me without a word. It’s as if he senses the nervous hum in my chest before I even notice it.
God, I’m so in love with him it’s terrifying.
I let out a slow breath and tilt my face toward the sun, trying to memorize the sensation of pure bliss on my skin.
Laughter bubbles up from the pool where Aria and Ethan are splashing each other like kids.
Ethan has her in a playful headlock, and they shriek and giggle as water sprays everywhere.
My parents and Ethan’s parents are settled under the nearby shaded cabana, all four sipping colorful cocktails with tiny paper umbrellas.
Dad is in the middle of telling the story about the time he tried to fix the kitchen sink and flooded half the house. Lillian is laughing so hard she has to set her drink down, and Mom is wiping away happy tears.
I turn to look at Milo. He’s wearing sunglasses, but I can still see his eyes crinkle with amusement when he glances my way.
His skin has turned a warm golden bronze from all our days in the sun, and tiny droplets of water still cling to the hard planes of his chest from our earlier swim, catching the light with every breath.
The book rests open on his lap, but he’s mostly watching me now, that soft, almost smile tugging at his lips. My chest tightens with overwhelming affection. I’m so gone for this man. He slipped past every wall I had, like they were paper-thin.
“Stop staring,” he murmurs, his mouth twitching at the corner.
“It’s my civic duty,” I reply, nudging his leg with my foot. “Someone has to appreciate how unfairly hot you look right now.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest. His fingers give my thigh a playful squeeze. “Careful. Your parents are literally ten feet away.”
“They already know something’s going on between us,” I whisper back, grinning.
Before he can answer, Mom calls out cheerfully, “Lunch is ready, everyone! Come on before Dad eats all the shrimp again!”
Milo carefully marks his place with a napkin, closes the book, and stands. He offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me up. Our fingers lace together as we walk to the long table under the cabana, and my heart does a happy little flip at how right it feels to hold his hand.
The food smells amazing. My stomach rumbles so loudly that Milo glances down at me, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. I shrug in return, my cheeks warm. He lets out a soft laugh and settles beside me, his hand resting instantly on my thigh.
Lunch is pure joy. Conversation flows easily, laced with teasing and laughter.
Ethan launches into a dramatic reenactment of Tom’s disastrous wedding dancing, complete with exaggerated hip thrusts that have the whole table howling.
Even Dad is slapping the table in amusement, and Lillian is cowering in embarrassment.
Halfway through the meal, with most plates empty, Mom sets her fork down and looks between Milo and me with a warm, knowing smile.
“So…” she says, her voice warm yet direct. “Are we allowed to officially acknowledge what’s happening between the two of you?”
I feel my cheeks flush instantly. Under the table, Milo’s hand finds my thigh again, and his thumb resumes its steady, calming rhythm. That touch gives me the courage to answer honestly.
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice steadier than I expected. “When we get back to New York, we’re going to see how things go. No pressure, just… us.”
Dad leans back, looking pleased but trying to play it cool. “As long as he treats you right, honey. Though from what I’ve seen this week—and from the conversation Milo and I had the other night—I’m not worried.”
Milo’s hand tightens slightly on my thigh. “I plan to treat her better than that,” he says sincerely. “She deserves the world. I’m just lucky she’s letting me try.”
My heart melts. I glance between them, curiosity sparking. “And what exactly did you two talk about the other night?”
The tips of Milo’s ears turn pink. He sips his water slowly, clearly buying time. “Just… stuff.”
“Stuff…?” I press, head tilted with a grin.
“Hmm.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Maybe one day.”
I eye him curiously, but don’t press further.
Aria leans in and pulls me into a sideways hug, squeezing me tight. “I’m so excited to watch your love story unfold,” she whispers into my hair. “You look happy, Sienna. It makes me happy… and a little emotional that my twin has finally found someone worth staying for.”
I squeeze her back, my heart so full it almost hurts. I am happy. The kind of happy that feels too big for my chest, like it might spill over and change my whole life.
“Oh! Before I forget,” Aria says, startling everyone with her sudden burst of energy. “There’s a bonfire on the beach tonight. Should we all go? Make it a proper farewell to the island and a celebration of how perfect it’s been?”
Ethan nods right away, popping a piece of pineapple into his mouth with a grin. “Do you even have to ask? Of course we’re all going. I’m not leaving this place without one last night under the stars.”
A tiny pang twists in my chest at the thought of leaving.
This island has changed everything. It’s cracked open parts of me I didn’t even know were sealed shut—the anxious, guarded pieces I’d carried for years.
Here, the waves never stop whispering against the shore like a gentle lullaby.
The air always smells of salt and sweet flowers, and time feels softer, slower, as if it’s giving us permission to just be.
I’ve laughed more freely, loved more openly, and let myself fall harder than I ever imagined. The thought of packing it all up and returning to real life makes my stomach flutter with nerves.
“We’ve technically got two nights left under the stars,” I comment, which earns me a scowl from Ethan.
Milo leans in close, his warm breath brushing my ear. “Their night under the stars and ours are completely different,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, just for me.
A flush creeps up my back and wraps around my neck.
Looking at him, a gentle hope blooms in my chest that maybe the magic we’ve found here won’t just disappear when we leave. Maybe the best parts of this island, the calm, the joy, and the way I feel when I’m with him, will follow us home.
“You’re such an idiot,” I murmur, nudging his shoulder.
“Your idiot,” he responds, smirking.
After that, the afternoon drifts by in the sweetest way.
We float on oversized inflatables in the pool, the cool water soothing our sun-warmed skin.
Aria and I start a splash fight that quickly devolves into total chaos when Ethan and Milo team up against us.
Water flies everywhere until we’re laughing so hard we can barely stay on the floats.
At one point, Milo catches me around the waist and pulls me onto his float.
I end up sprawled across his chest, my chin resting on my hands as I just look at him—dripping wet, smiling, and utterly mine in this moment.
He brushes wet hair off my forehead, his touch impossibly gentle, and something deep inside me clicks into place.
Later, we head back to the loungers and trade stories.
Mom tells the tale of me trying to run away at six to live in a treehouse.
Dad adds all the embarrassing details I’d conveniently forgotten.
Milo stays close the whole time, his hand finding mine or resting on my thigh whenever my leg gets restless.
Every touch feels like a quiet promise: I’m here, and I’ve got you.
I catch my parents watching us with soft, approving eyes more than once. Mom’s hand rests over Dad’s like she’s remembering their own beginning. Aria keeps shooting me little sparkling grins, practically glowing with secondhand joy.
By the time the sun begins to dip, painting the sky in breathtaking strokes of pink, orange, and lavender, I feel full—full of food, laughter, love, and a quiet new certainty blooming in my chest like a flower finally opening to the light.
As we gather our things to head back to the villa and get ready for the bonfire, Milo gently tugs my wrist, pulling me aside beneath a tall palm tree.
The fronds rustle overhead as his hands settle on my waist, his thumbs brushing the warm stripe of skin where my shirt has ridden up. A pleasant shiver races up my spine.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and tender as he searches my face as if memorizing every detail. “With everyone knowing? I don’t want you to feel any pressure because of it.”
I nod, rising onto my toes to kiss him softly. “More than okay,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m happy. Scared… but genuinely happy. And I want them to know.”
A smile spreads across his face. “Good. As long as you’re sure.”
“I am,” I nod, sliding my hand into his. “Only because I know you’ll be there to catch me if I fall.”
“Always,” he murmurs, squeezing my fingers. “I’ve got you, baby. As long as you’ll let me.”