“My grandpa had a calendar in the garage when I was a kid. National Geographic photos of Italy. I used to stare at it and imagine what it would be like to just... go.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “What about you?”
“Iceland,” I said without hesitation. “I want to photograph the Northern Lights. Stand under that green sky and just... witness it, you know?”
“Iceland and Italy.” He was quiet for a beat. “We could do both.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why not?” His voice was soft but serious. “We could plan a trip. Not right away, but someday. When we’ve figured out the long-distance thing and we’re ready for the next step. Wecould go to Iceland in winter for the lights, Italy in summer for the coast.”
The casual way he said it made my chest ache. Like he really believed we’d have a someday. Like this wasn’t temporary.
“I’d like that,” I whispered.
“Me too.” He shifted, turning so he could see my face. “What else? If we’re daydreaming, let’s dream big.”
“Okay.” I thought about it, letting myself imagine a future that felt impossible and inevitable all at once. “I want to photograph a wedding in Scotland. Like a castle wedding with kilts and bagpipes and the whole dramatic thing.”
“So you want to work on vacation?”
“It wouldn’t feel like work. It would feel like an adventure.” I poked his chest. “Your turn. Dream big.”
“I want to learn to surf,” he said. “Somewhere tropical. Hawaii or Costa Rica or somewhere with warm water and big waves.”
“You want to surf?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I have hidden depths.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m delighted.” I kissed his jaw. “I can picture it. You all tan and beach-bummy, teaching me how to stand on a board.”
“You’d want to learn?”
“If you’re teaching? Absolutely.”
We kept going, trading dreams and fantasies. He wanted to see the Grand Canyon. I wanted to visit every bookshop in Paris. He wanted to eat street food in Thailand. I wanted to photograph the cherry blossoms in Japan.
“We could do it all,” he said eventually, his voice drowsy. “Take a year and just... travel. See everything.”
“A year?”
“Why not? You can photograph anywhere. I could take a sabbatical from the garage, hire a manager or something. We could just go.”
“That’s crazy.”
“So?” He turned his head to look at me, his eyes serious despite the smile on his lips. “Would you want to? If it was possible?”
I thought about it. Really thought about it. A year of just us, exploring the world, no obligations or responsibilities. Building memories instead of maintaining them.
“Yes,” I admitted. “Iwouldwant that.”
“Then let’s do it. Not now, but someday. When the timing’s right and we’ve figured everything else out. Let’s promise each other that.”
“Promise we’ll take a year to travel the world?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a big promise, Dex.”
“I know.” He laced his fingers through mine. “But I want big things with you, Leigh. I want everything.”
My throat tightened. “Me too.”
We lay there under the stars, talking until the candles started to gutter out and the wine bottle was empty. Making impossible plans, dreaming impossible dreams. And in that moment, under that vast sky with his arms around me, nothing felt impossible at all.
