His mouth finds mine—soft, familiar. And there’s no rush. Not tonight.
When we finally pull back, my hands slide up to his shoulders, steadying us both. I keep them there, thumbs pressing lightly, grounding.
“It’s over,” I say quietly. “I know that.”
Then, it needs to be said. “You’ve been through… a lot.”
Something flickers in his eyes. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t deflect. He just nods, like he understands exactly what I mean.
“So have you,” he says.
And he’s right. The past year, it’s left scars. Maybe not the kind you can see—but they’re there.
“We’ve got some work ahead of us.” I exhale a small, honest laugh.
“Yeah,” he admits. “I got us off track. And I want you to know, that’s never gonna happen again. I realize it’s gonna take time, to… heal. For me to?—”
I touch a fingertip to his mouth. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And I know I… I can become a little… preoccupied with having things a certain way. And… I’m so sorry if my—if my expectations made you feel?—”
“Oh, Ashley. Babe. You have never—never. It was me.”
“No, it wasn’t just you. Both of us could’ve done more for each other. But… We’ve both learned how much we have to lose and how awful that feels. And… I think we can be better.
“We can.” Beckett nods.
And suddenly, even though, yeah, there’s work to be done, I just want to be present. With my husband, with this incredible man that I almost let go.
So I lift my chin. Tip my head just a little.
And let my mouth curve.
“Speaking of getting better,” I murmur, “I’ve been thinking about your… piercing.”
His brow arches.
“Only 172 days left until you’re… seaworthy again.”
That earns me a flash of that familiar, cocky look—the one I fell for a lifetime ago.
“Hey,” he says, a little growly.A lot sexy. “It’s been proven that regardless of the… temporary condition of my… stern, I’m more than capable of sailing the high seas.”
I laugh—really laugh—the sound easing something tight in my chest.
He leans in again, kisses me once more. Lighter this time.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says against my mouth.
And I know we will.
Because this—this choosing each other, even when it’s hard?—
It feels like a brand new happily-ever-after.
He sweeps me into his arms. “And,” he murmurs, eyes dancing, “I’m thinking we could do a little… cruising tonight.”
“We are so corny.”
An old married couple.
