But no matter how many times I turned over, adjusted the sheets, stared at the ceiling, the heaviness in my chest remained.
For the first time, I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow. And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.
The sheets rustled as I sat up, my body restless, like my skin didn’t fit quite right. There was no point in pretending anymore – I wasn’t going to sleep.
With a soft sigh, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The marble floor was cool under my bare feet, grounding. A soft breeze drifted in through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of salt and night-blooming flowers.
I slipped outside.
The resort was quiet now, a sleeping paradise. My white nightgown – thin, silky, and loose – fluttered around my thighs as I stepped onto the balcony. Below me, the sand stretched out like a sheet of silver, glowing under the light of a full moon.
Without overthinking, I padded down the small steps that led straight onto the beach.
The night wrapped around me like a shawl. Soft. Quiet. Almost sacred.
The sand was warm from the day, shifting softly under each step. My dress moved with the wind, flowing around me like water as I walked, the hem brushing against my calves. My hair whipped around my face, strands catching the breeze as if the wind itself wanted to play.
It wasn’t completely dark – Hawaii never was. The moon was high and bright, painting the world in shades of ivory and blue. The ocean stretched out endlessly before me, its surface shimmering like a thousand broken mirrors scattered beneath the stars.
I walked for a while, aimlessly, letting the waves be my soundtrack. Their rhythm was soothing – crash, retreat, crash again.
Finally, I stopped a few feet from the water’s edge.
The sand was damp and cool here, sinking a little beneath my toes. I crossed my arms lightly over my chest – not out of cold, but from the sheer vastness of it all.
The wind picked up, teasing the fabric of my nightgown, sending it billowing around me like a soft, white cloud. I tilted my head back and looked out at the horizon, where the dark ocean kissed the even darker sky.
The view was breathtaking. Endless. Alive.
The waves rolled in, stopping just short of my feet, leaving foamy fingerprints on the sand before retreating again. The moonlight sparkled on the water, turning it to liquid silver. For a moment, everything felt suspended – like the world had slowed down just for me.
I breathed it in deeply. The salt. The night. The quiet.
Here, away from everyone, away from the noise of my thoughts, I could finally admit what I’d been feeling all night.
Something inside me was shifting. And as much as I tried to ignore it, standing there beneath the moonlight, alone with the vastness of the ocean – it was impossible to deny.
For a while, I simply stood there, letting the breeze tangle in my hair and the moonlight soak into my skin. The melancholy still pressed softly against my ribs, but it wasn’tas sharp anymore – more like a slow ache, a quiet sadness I didn’t fully understand.
I exhaled and turned my head slightly toward the stretch of beach…
And my heart stopped.
Far down the sand, framed by the moonlit shoreline, Matteo was walking toward me.
He looked like he’d stepped straight out of some fever dream I’d never admit to having. His white linen shirt fluttered lightly in the wind, open just enough to hint at the warm bronze of his skin beneath. His matching trousers hung low on his hips, loose, the fabric swaying with each slow, unhurried step. He was barefoot, shoes dangling carelessly from one hand, like he had all the time in the world.
The moonlight touched him like it favored him, gliding over the strong lines of his shoulders, catching the faint shimmer of the gold chain at his throat. His skin glowed faintly against the dark horizon, and his hair – more golden in the day, now a deep burnished bronze – was pushed back messily by the wind.
Occasionally, the tide kissed his ankles, soft waves splashing around his feet as if even the ocean wanted to greet him.
And his eyes –God. Even from here, I could see the way they caught the light, like fragments of something untamed and bright.
For a heartbeat, he didn’t look real.
He looked like a…White knight.
The kind that appeared in stories whispered beneath candlelight. A noble warrior striding down the shore, moonlight at his back, every inch of him exuding strength and quiet certainty.
