Just salt air in her lungs and the familiar pull of gravity trying to decide if it trusted her again.
She carved gently, not pushing the wave, just letting it carry her. And with each second that passed, something inside her unclenched a little more.
This wasn’t conquest. Not like before.
It was negotiation.
A quiet agreement between her and the sea:I am here, but I am listening now.
It wasn’t her first time back in the water since Pipeline. Callum had been with her the first time, close enough that she could hear his voice cutting through her panic when it rose too quickly.
She had survived that day too. And the ocean had let her. It always would.
But this time, as she rode the small Cádiz wave all the way through to its gentle collapse, she felt something different settle in her chest.
Not just survival. Belonging again.
“How do you feel?” Sofia asked as she paddled back towards her, seated on her board behind the impact zone. There was softness in that question, a tenderness of seeing how much it changed in less than a year and how much progress she had already made.
“Good. Very good,” And she meant it. Beside her restored relationship with the ocean, life was treating her well. Her injury was recovering faster than expected, Callum was relaxing during his sabbatical, and they had more time together, even if his father’s lawyers called daily to sort out the mess Mick Turner had left behind. She couldn’t wait to try the wave pool. That year, her injury had made her miss Abu Dhabi and the wave pool event. The idea of traveling to Arizona to try the Blue Fire Ranch pool made her kick her feet and giggle in excitement. It was good to be back to feel like that when she thought about the water.
“And you?” Alejandra asked, bobbing in the water, enjoying the feeling she had missed for the past months. Her shoulder was taped up—Carlos had applied the physio tape the night before. It was going to ruin her tan, but it kept things in place.
“Very good. When the morning sickness doesn’t hit,” Sofia grinned. “But I found out whale songs calm her down.”
“Wait,” Alejandra paddled closer as Sofia smiled widely, caressing her belly under the swimsuit. “Do you know the sex?”
“Yes,” Sofia’s brown eyes sparkled. “I wanted to tell you here, in our place.”
Alejandra let out a laugh of happiness. “Oh my god, please tell me you’ll name her Alejandra.”
“Gosh, no.”
“Don’t call her Antonia. She’ll hate you forever. Plus, your dad didn’t want that.”
“Nope. Would you let me—”
“Alejandra Jr. II.”
Sofia snorted. “Layla.”
Alejandra beamed. “I love it. So cute.”
“I know,” Sofia squealed. “Ilias’s mom came up with it.”
Layla. Alejandra repeated the name. Sofia and Ilias’ baby will be named Layla.
“What does it mean?”
“It translates to night or dark beauty. I just loved the sound of it.”
“I love it.” Then she smirked, “It will be tough for her to find her name on those souvenirs, but I bet she’ll love it.”
Sofia chuckled.
“How are you and Ilias doing? Are you happy? You look happy,” Alejandra smiled.
“I’m the luckiest woman alive to have found him.”
