He studies me for a moment before answering, his voice low and steady.
“After all this time, look where we are. Still together, exactly where we belong. You came into my life to stay, and now there’s nowhere in this world I’d want to go without you.”
The words hang softly between us while the music continues to play in the background, and for a moment, I forget about the breakfast waiting on the stove, the plans for the day, the entire world outside this kitchen.
All I can see is him.
My fingers tighten slightly in his as warmth spreads through my chest.
“Well,” I say quietly, unable to stop the smile that’s growing across my face, “that might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me before seven in the morning.”
Aiden chuckles under his breath and pulls me a little closer, our bodies still moving slowly with the music.
“Good,” he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss against my lips. “Get used to it.”
Later that morning, Natalia and I stand near the harbor admiring the work that has come together over the last few days. The entire community showed up for this ceremony, and it shows in every corner of the marina. Music plays from a small stage set up along the docks while Coast Guard vessels and commercial fishing boats of every size rock gently in the water,their rails overflowing with flowers that spill over the sides in bright colors. Guests gather along the harbor, chatting excitedly as they line up to board the boats that will carry them out to sea to take part in the celebration from the water.
Natalia and I take it all in, quietly proud of the small part we played in helping bring everything together.
Then I see him.
Aiden is making his way through the crowd toward me, wearing a tight blue shirt tucked into his firefighter pants, his suspenders hanging loose at his sides, and the sight of him makes my smile spread so wide that Natalia notices it immediately.
“Someone is in love,” she says, poking me gently in the ribs.
My smile doesn’t fade, especially once he reaches me and wraps both arms around my waist, lifting me effortlessly into the air before kissing me in front of everyone.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he says when he sets me back on my feet.
I laugh, still holding onto him as the warmth of the moment settles around us.
“Ah, young love,” Natalia says from beside us.
Aiden chuckles and turns toward her, extending his hand politely.
“Hi, I’m Aiden.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she answers with a smile as she shakes his hand.
Together we move closer toward the harbor where the ceremony is already beginning. The Fleet of Flowers began as a commemoration honoring fallen military personnel and seafarers lost at sea, and every year the Coast Guard opens the event with a blessing of the fleet before recognizing acts of service and bravery among those who serve.
Lieutenant Mercer steps forward onto the small makeshift stage set up along the dock, his voice carrying clearly across the water as the crowd slowly quiets.
“Today we gather not only to remember those we have lost,” he begins, “but also to recognize the courage and commitment of those who continue to serve.”
He pauses briefly before continuing.
“Last month, during a time of great need, one of our Coast Guard servicemen responded to a rescue call just beyond this harbor. An individual had fallen into dangerously cold water, and with every passing minute, the situation became more critical. Without hesitation, this serviceman entered the water and brought that individual safely back to shore.”
My chest tightens slightly as the memory of that day rushes back.
“For that reason,” Lieutenant Mercer continues, “we would like to honor Aviation Survival Technician and Petty Officer Second Class Findlay O’Donoghue with the Gold Lifesaving Medal for extraordinary heroism in the line of duty, performed at great personal risk, so that others may live.”
The crowd erupts in cheers.
“Here to present this honor,” Lieutenant Mercer continues, “is Aiden Holloway, whose life was rescued by Officer O’Donoghue.”
My jaw drops in complete surprise as I realize what is happening.
