“Guilty.” He raises his glass in a mock toast, his grin easy and unrepentant. “Figured we had some unfinished business.”
“Unfinished business?” I arch a brow, taking a sip of the crisp, chilled wine.
“Mm-hmm.” He steps closer, setting his glass on the railing as his hands slide around my waist. “You left me here the first time, remember? No name, no number. Just a kiss and a bruised ego.”
I laugh, the sound light and easy as I loop my arms around his neck. “You survived.”
“Barely.” His voice drops, his eyes locking on mine. “But I guess I can forgive you now. Seeing as how you came back and married me.”
“Was that all it took?” I tease, leaning in slightly. “A wedding ring and a new last name?”
“Not just any ring,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine. “And not just any name. My name. My wife. You’re mine, darling.”
The words send a warm shiver down my spine, and I press closer, my smile fading into something softer as I rest my forehead against his.
“I love you, Ledge,” I whisper, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
It still feels strange, saying it out loud—not because I don’t mean it, but because it’s a kind of vulnerability I never thought I’d allow myself.
He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his expression unguarded and utterly serious. “I love you too, Gale.”
The moment stretches between us, quiet and perfect, and I can’t help but marvel at how far we’ve come. From a messy proposition in Birchwood Springs to this—to love, to trust, to a life that feels like ours.
“You know,” he says after a moment, his tone light again, “we could make a tradition out of this. Come back every year, drink too much wine, and toast to all the reasons I’m the best decision you’ve ever made.”
I laugh, swatting at his chest. “I’m the best decision you’ve ever made. Me . . . well, I have to deal.”
“Whatever, just remember you’re stuck with me,” he quips, his voice carrying that familiar mix of teasing and promise. Before I can respond, he catches my hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to my palm. The warmth of his mouth lingers, sending a quiet shiver down my spine.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I reply, my voice softer than I intended, the words feeling more like a confession than a comeback.
The sun dips below the horizon, spilling hues of amber and violet across the ocean, the waves catching the light like liquid fire. I lean into him, resting my head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat tether me to this moment. His arm comes around me, his hand splaying low on my back like he can’t bear to let go.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not chasing something. I’m not fighting, not running, not searching for the missing pieces of a life I thought I had to rebuild alone. There’s still danger waiting for us back home, shadows lurking in corners we can’t yet see, but we’ve made a choice—to live fully, to grab onto this life we’re building and hold it tight. No more hesitating, no more stopping for the what if-s.
All that matters is the now.
He’s mine, and I’m his.
And for the first time, everything feels exactly as it should. The world isn’t perfect—it never will be—but with him, it feels damn close.
His lips brush the top of my head, a silent acknowledgment of the quiet between us. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice dipping low in that way that always makes my pulse skip, “if you keep looking at me like that, we’re going to have to take this celebration inside.”
I tilt my head up, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, really?”
His hand slides lower, teasingly close to the curve of my ass. “Really,” he says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Unless you don’t care if the other guests get a show and see my wife naked while I fuck her senseless.”
“You care,” I remind him, my own grin tugging at my lips because his possessive streak is as obvious as it is endearing.
“Damn right, I care,” he growls, his fingers tightening on my waist.
“Then let’s go inside,” I say, leaning in so my lips are just a breath from his. “Show me how happy you are that we’re far from everything, enjoying life, and living fully.”
“Fully,” he murmurs, his voice dropping, his gaze locking on mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “And forever, my love.”
And as he scoops me up, carrying me toward the villa, I know he means every word. Forever. Fully. Us. Always.
