Instead, she was wide awake, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Alex's chest while she listened to his breathing slow toward sleep.
The shell sat on the nightstand beside the bed.
She'd pulled it from her bag earlier, setting it there without really thinking about it. But now, in the darkness, she found herself looking at it—that perfect spiral of pink and gold that he'd given her the night before she left.
To remember, he'd said.To remember this place. The research. Everything.
He'd meant:to remember me.
She'd carried it everywhere for six months. Through airports and hotel rooms and lonely nights when she'd held it in her palm and wondered if she'd made a mistake, leaving without fighting harder.
Now it was here, in his room, intheirroom—and she didn't need it to remember anymore.
She had the real thing.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Mm?" Alex's voice was drowsy, sleep pulling at the edges.
"When you tell Megan about this, make sure you mention I said yes immediately. None of this 'she thought about it' nonsense. Immediate yes. Enthusiastic yes."
His chest shook with quiet laughter. "Noted."
"And tell her—" Lily's voice caught, the emotion sneaking up on her. "Tell her thank you. For the horror movies. For showing you that sharing things with people doesn't have to hurt."
Alex was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "I'll tell her."
"Okay." She pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "I love you."
"I love you too." His arms tightened around her. "Even though you're definitely going to fill our apartment with throw pillows, I just know it.”
"They'redecorative, Alex. They tie the room together."
"If you say so."
"I do say so. And you'll learn to appreciate them."
"Doubtful."
"Then you'll learn to tolerate them." She tilted her face up, finding his lips in the darkness. "That's what love is. Tolerating each other's throw pillows."
"That should be a greeting card."
"I'll pitch it to Jessica. Very on-brand for us."
"Nothing about us is on-brand."
"Exactly." She settled back against his chest with a contented sigh. "That's what makes it perfect."
The ocean murmured outside, the same eternal rhythm it had kept on another island half a world away. Lily closed her eyes and let it wash over her—the sound of the waves, the warmth of Alex's body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
A booking error had stranded her on the wrong island with the wrong man, and somehow it had turned into the most right thing that had ever happened to her.
Find the silver lining, Lily. There's always a silver lining.
She smiled into the darkness.
Turns out, sometimes the silver lining was the whole damn sky.
