Lily was out of the car before she'd fully processed the decision, her sandals slapping against the weathered dock as she closed the distance between them. He met her halfway, still dripping, and she didn't care that hersundress was about to be soaked—she launched herself at him anyway.
"Hi," she breathed against his mouth.
"Hi yourself." His arms wrapped around her, lifting her slightly off her feet, and then he was kissing her—deep and thorough and tasting like salt water andAlexand everything she'd been craving for fourteen endless days.
When they finally broke apart, she was breathing hard and her dress was definitely ruined.
"You taste like saltwater,” she observed.
"Occupational hazard."
"I wasn't complaining." She traced a droplet down his chest, watching his stomach muscles clench under her touch. "In fact, I think you should greet me like this every time. Shirtless and glistening."
"I'll add it to my calendar. 'Glistening for Lily, 4 PM.'"
"You joke, but I'm absolutely serious." She kissed him again, softer this time, savoring. "God, I missed you."
"Missed you too." His voice was rougher now, his hands sliding down to her hips. "How was theflight?"
"Long. Turbulent. I sat next to a man who wanted to tell me about his stamp collection for three hours." She pulled back enough to look at him properly—the new sun lines around his eyes, the stubble that was closer to a beard now, the way he looked at her like she was something delicious. "But I'm here now."
"You're here now," he agreed, and the warmth in his voice made her chest ache.
This was real. After everything—the disastrous arrival, the fighting, the falling, the heartbreak of watching him shrink to nothing from the deck of that ferry—this wasreal.
She still had to pinch herself sometimes.
"Jessica says if I film one more sea creature, she's staging an intervention."
They were walking toward the station, Alex's arm slung around her shoulders, her body tucked against his still-damp side. She didn't care about the wetsuit residue on her dress. She'd waited two weeks to be this close to him.
"And yet?" Alex prompted.
"And yet she texted me three potential locations for the next piece this morning. Apparently interventions are flexible when the engagement metrics look this good."
"How is she?"
"Happy, actually. Like, genuinely happy." Lily smiled, thinking of their last video call—Jessica laughing about something her new boyfriend had done, looking lighter than Lily had seen her in years. "The veterinarian is good for her. Very stable. Very not-Derek."
"Stability is good.”
"Says the man who lives on a different research station every three months."
"Stableemotionally," Alex clarified. "Geographically, I'm a disaster."
"Good thing I like disasters."
He squeezed her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her hair, and Lily let herself sink into the simple comfort of it.
Six months ago, she'd stood on a ferry deck and watched him let her go. She'd cried the entire boat ride, then pulled herself together, wiped her face, and decided that if he couldn't be brave enough to fight for them, she'd channel all that heartbreak into something meaningful.
And she had. The video had changed everything—not just for SPECA's funding, but for her. For who she wanted to be. For what she wanted her life to mean.
But the best part—the part that still made her dizzy when she thought about it—was that he'd found his way back to her.
Not because she'd asked. Not because she'd begged or manipulated or performed her way into his heart.
Becausehe'dfinally been brave enough to try.
