I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. "It's just like you described, and the way I always imagined it, too."
He turns around and kisses me, slow and deep. I feel the tension that's been living in his shoulders for as long as I've known him finally start to unwind completely.
We spend the first afternoon on the beach. The October sun is warm but not brutal, the air carrying just enough breeze to keep comfortable. The beach is mostly empty—a couple walking a dog near the water's edge, a few people fishing in the distance with elaborate setups, but otherwise we have the sand to ourselves.
Jay strips down to the swim trunks I secretly bought for him—dark blue ones that sit low on his hips—and runs straight into the water like a kid. I follow more slowly, watching him, unable to stop smiling.
He dives under the waves and comes up laughing and sputtering, salt water streaming down his face.
"It's so warm!" he shouts back to me. "And clear. I can see fish nibbling my toes. Ivan, get in here, it's absolutely perfect!"
I wade in until the water is up to my chest, and then Jay is there, wrapping himself around me, his legs around my waist, his arms around my neck. The waves rock us gently, and I hold him up, my hands on his back, feeling the solid weight of him.
He's gained weight this past year. Real weight, healthy weight, muscle and substance where there used to be sharp edges and visible ribs and bones. He eats like a man now—full meals, seconds when he wants them.
"You look so good," I tell him, running my hands down his sides, feeling the definition there. "Do you know that? You look healthy. Strong. I love seeing you now."
"I feel strong." He grins, and it's the open, unguarded grin of someone who isn't afraid anymore. "I feel like I could do anything. Like nothing could stop me."
"You can. You already have."
We float together until the salt water has made our skin tight, then stumble back to shore and collapse on the towels I spread out earlier. Jay lies on his back, arms spread wide, staring up at the endless sky.
"I used to imagine this," he says quietly, his voice almost lost in the sound of the waves. "I'd close my eyes and picture this exact thing. White sand. Blue water. Blue sky. Seagulls. I'd try to go here in my mind."
He turns his head to look at me, his dark eyes wet.
"I never thought I'd actually be here."
"You're here." I reach over and take his hand, lacing our fingers together. "You made it. We both made it."
"Yes, we did. I wish we could've known back then, that we would be right here one day. Together, safe, happy."
I let out a sigh. "Me too."
We watch the sunset from the beach, sitting side by side in the sand, as the sun sinks slowly into the Gulf. Jay leans against me, his head on my shoulder, and neither of us says anything for a long time. We don't need to. Some moments are too big for words, too perfect to interrupt.
For dinner, we walk to a seafood restaurant right on the water. A casual place with picnic tables and paper plates and the freshest seafood I've ever tasted in my life. Jay orders a massive platter of fried shrimp and devours every single bite with obvious enjoyment, then steals half my fish tacos without even a hint of apology.
"You're a thief," I tell him, but I'm grinning the whole time.
"You love me anyway."
"I do. I married you, remember?"
"Vaguely." He grins back mischievously. "Something about rings and crying?"
"That sounds about right."
We walk back along the beach as the stars come out, our shoes in our hands, the water lapping at our feet. The moon is nearly full, casting silver light across the sand and the water, and Jay keeps stopping to look at it.
"I keep waiting to wake up," he admits. "I keep thinking I'm going to open my eyes, and all of this will have been just a cruel dream."
"It's not a dream." I stop walking and turn to face him, taking both his hands. "We're married, we're on our honeymoon, and tomorrow we're going to wake up and watch the sunrise and drink coffee on the balcony and do it all over again."
Back at the condo, I barely get the door closed before Jay is on me.
He kisses me like he's starving, his hands fisting in my shirt, walking me backward toward the bedroom. We tumble onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter and the salt of the ocean still on our skin.
