It’s the first song he played for her on his guitar.
“Made to Love You.”
He didn’t sing the words for her before, though, and as she listens, her breath hitches and her eyes prickle. Words about needing her and feeling like half of a whole without her. Words about every moment leading to their meeting being a shadow of the life he has with her. Words about being found when he didn’t realize he was lost. Words about love and purpose and belonging to each other.
About forever and promises and hard times.
About the beauty of every moment together. Because he was made for this. Made to love her.
By the time he finishes, tears join the seawater dripping from her cheeks, and he turns, worry etched in lines on his face as he searches for her.
When his gaze lands on her, relief sweeps over him, but he says nothing. He just watches her as if unsure what to do.
Thenhe stands and wades toward her in the water. And a moment later he’s there, drawing her to his chest.
“I love you, El. I always will. No matter what.”
As he holds her, sobs choke her. “I hate the...the waiting.”
“I know, love.”
“I hate feeling helpless.”
“I know.” He tightens his arms around her.
“I feel so restless.”
“Did your swim help?”
She nods. “But once the frustration tempered, I needed you.”
“I’m here, love.”
And he holds her until her tears slow.
“Are you ready for breakfast in bed?” he eventually asks. “We need food in our bellies before we start building our treehouse.”
She clings to him and nods. “Thank you.”
“I was made to love you. Can you do me a favor, though?”
She pulls away to look into his eyes, and he brushes her tears away.
“What do you wish for me to do?” she asks.
“Could you put your clothes back on? I can’t claim I’m not enjoying holding you like this. Because that would be a bald lie. But I may need to go for my own swim soon if you don’t.”
A smile tugs at his lips and draws out her own smile.
“Forgive me,” she says. “I—”
“You aren’t allowed to apologize for letting me hold you like this. Ever.”
She laughs and leans into him. Then he takes her hand and draws her back to the dry sand, where she finds her dress again. The heat in his eyes as he watches her with his arms crossed over his chest fills her with longing, but she resists its pull as she lifts her dress over her head andsmooths it into place. When she turns back to the bed, a breakfast of waffles with whipped cream and strawberries awaits them.
“I love you,” Rominy says. “Until the beating of our hearts fades. Now eat. We have things to do today, and I refuse to wait while life passes us by.”
“Thank you,” she whispers on a last shuddering breath.
