51. Forever and Ever.
The island air smells like salt and lavender and something warm that always makes me think of home now.
Her.
Our house sits right on the edge of the water — white stone, glass windows, sunlight everywhere because she said darkness reminds her of things she doesn't want to remember anymore.
I would build her a house made of pure sunlight if she asked.
I step out onto the terrace and find her exactly where I knew she'd be, leaning against the railing, talking to the gardener, barefoot, hair blowing everywhere like she didn't even try to tame it.
And there it is.
The ring.
She's holding her hand in just the right angle so the diamond catches the morning sun.
I cross my arms, leaning against the doorway, watching.
"...and then he said the island was excessive," she's telling the poor man, completely serious. "So I married him anyway."
The gardener laughs nervously.
She tilts her hand again.
Flex.
I bite back a smile.
My wife.
I walk up behind her, sliding an arm around her waist, and she melts back into me automatically like muscle memory. Like breathing.
"You're blinding innocent civilians again, Mrs. Hayes," I murmur into her ear.
She gasps dramatically. "It's called sharing joy, Xavier."
I grab her hand, turning it, watching the diamond flash. The band looks obscene on her small fingers. Like something too big. Too powerful.
Still doesn't come close to how big she is inside my life.
"You've shown three delivery guys, the gardener, the boat mechanic, and-"
"And the old couple on the beach," she adds proudly.
I groan. "Jesus, Swan."
She turns in my arms, eyes bright, cheeks flushed from sun and happiness and life.
"Let me enjoy being married to you," she says, softer now. "I fought hard for this."
My chest tightens.
She did.
We both did.
I press my forehead to hers. The ocean crashes behind us. The wind moves around us. The world keeps spinning.
But right here?
Right here is still.
"You can show the whole world," I tell her quietly. "Hell, I'll buy you a bigger diamond if you want."
Her nose wrinkles. "No. I like this one."
"Yeah?" I murmur.
She nods, sliding her arms around my neck. "Because you chose it. And because it means you chose me."
Fucking fuck.
I kiss her hard.
Her lips meet mine, her lips moving against mine, matching my pace, I pull her closer- one hand around her back, and my under hand caresses her soft cheeks.
When I pull back, she's smiling- that smile the one that once ruined me.
Now it saves me.
"Also," she adds casually, lifting her hand again as a boat passes in the distance, "the light hits it better near water."
I stare at her.
Then laugh — full, helpless, alive. "Unbelievable." I say.
She grins. "You married me."
"Yeah, best decision I ever made." I smile.
——
We don't plan to end up on the beach.
It just... happens.
One minute we're walking through the quiet path behind the villa, the next the trees open up and the ocean stretches out in front of us — endless blue melting into a softer blue sky.
The sand is still warm from the afternoon sun, heat kissing the soles of our feet as waves roll in slow and unhurried, like even the world decided to move gently tonight.
She slips her sandals off first.
Amara walks ahead of me barefoot, the wind playing with her hair, her laughter carried away by the salt air. The tide keeps chasing her footprints, swallowing them one by one as if the ocean itself can't stand proof that she was here.
And then she turns and removes her shrug off.
Blue.
Of course it's blue.
The bikini is simple. Clean lines. No drama. Just soft fabric against warm skin like it was designed with her in mind. The sun catches along her collarbone, traces the elegant curve of her waist, glows against the dip of her hips. The breeze pushes her hair back from her face and she looks unreal.
Like something I dreamed up and was lucky enough to keep.
My chest tightens in that familiar way — the overwhelming kind. The kind that makes me forget how to breathe for a second.
"Stop staring at me like that." she calls out pretending she doesn't love the attention.
My attention.
"Like what?" I ask, even though we both know.
"Like you've been starved."
I walk toward her slowly, sand shifting under my feet. "I have been starved."
Her eyes roll, but her cheeks betray her.
I close the distance between us.
"Good thing this island is basically empty," I murmur, my voice lower now, roughened by the way she's looking at me. My hands find her waist naturally, like they belong there.
My thumbs brush along her sides, feeling the warmth of her skin under my palms. "Because I don't think I'd survive other men looking at you like this."
Her fingers slide up my chest, resting just over my heart. "They don't matter," she says softly.
I exhale, resting my forehead against hers, breathing in salt and sunscreen and her.
"You have no idea," I murmur, fingers tracing slow, reverent lines along her back, memorizing her like I still can't believe I'm allowed to touch her like this, "how unreal you look right now."
She laughs quietly, "You see me every day."
Before I can say anything, she jogs away like she was born for open skies and open water. The sound of her laughter mixes with the waves and for a second I just stand there, watching.
I follow, slower on purpose.
I like watching her.
She reaches the shoreline and doesn't even pause, just runs straight into the water
Her dive is messy and dramatic.
Completely Amara style
A splash explodes around her, sunlight catching droplets midair. She disappears for a heartbeat and resurfaces with a sharp gasp, hair slicked back, cheeks flushed, eyes shining.
"Come on, coward!"
I shake my head, wading in after her cause how the hell can I not?
The water is warm, clear enough that I can see the movement of her legs beneath the surface. The water wraps around me slowly, rising past my hips, my waist.
She swims backwards, facing me the entire time.
That smirk.
Goodness me.
She looks like something the ocean would claim as its own. Like she belongs to the waves more than she belongs to land.
When I finally reach her, she splashes water straight into my face.
I blink through it, pushing my hair back. "You wanna die today?"
"Oh no," she purrs, circling me in the water, movements slow and deliberate. "I wanna swim." Her fingers trail across my shoulders as she moves. "Maybe wrap my legs around my husband's waist..." Her voice dips lower. "Maybe make bad decisions in saltwater."
Fucking fuckity fuck.
Thats a thing I learnt saying from her, by the way.
I catch her wrist before she can drift away.
"Amara."
"Xavier."
One.
Two.
And then she does exactly what she threatened.
She lunges.
Her arms hook around my shoulders. Her legs wrap around my waist. Water splashes around us as her body collides with mine, soaked and warm and impossibly soft.
I catch her without thinking.
My hands slide to her thighs to steady her. The ocean shifts around us, waves rocking us gently like we're something fragile it's decided to cradle instead of crash into.
She giggles, breath fanning across my mouth, her nose brushing mine. "Hi."
I breathe her in, "Hi."
We're chest to chest. Skin against skin. The water keeps us floating, keeps us close. Her wet hair clings to her neck, cool strands against overheated skin. Her fingers slide into my hair.
For a moment neither of us speaks.
"Still think running away to an island is ridiculous?" I murmur.
She pretends to think. "Mmm... yes."
I tighten my grip on her thighs. "Say that again."
She leans in, breath warm and reckless. "Ri" she kisses my ear. "di" a soft press to the corner of my mouth. "cu" she nips my lower lip. "lous.."
Her breath hitches. "Xav.."
I press my forehead to hers, trying to calm the thunder in my veins.
"We should stop." she says, biting her lip but she doesn't move away. If anything, she presses closer.
"We should" I agree, voice rough, hands firm at her waist, thumbs unconsciously tracing slow circles into her skin.
"We're not going to, are we?"
"Nope."
"Je t'aime, Xavier." she says.
"I love you, Amara."
I used to say I love you more, like love was something to measure, something to win at, something I had to make bigger so she'd never doubt it.
But somewhere along the way, I understood her love is just as deep, just as relentless, just as willing to burn and rebuild and fight for us as mine is.
I never want to make her feel smaller inside something that was always meant to hold us both equally. So now, when I say it, I let it be whole.
I love you.