Seaside

“Here’s to beginnings, yeah?”

Photo by Hải Nguyễn from Pexels

Don’t be shy and say you don’t remember. I can still envision the day I came off the boat and saw you standing there as you waited for me. Your dress was the color of blush sunsets paling before the touch of night. Your eyes fluttered shut as I leaned in to brush a kiss against your cheek. The smile you gave me could have made a dead man come ‘live again, I swear.

But the moment your hand found mine, like a key fitting into a lock, I knew this day would be one of many we would share. And, look, I was right: here you are beside me to this day. It’s been worth it, hasn’t it, sweetheart?

You took me to your favorite café not far from the beach. I could still smell the saltwater, and I didn’t want to tell you I had been green with sickness the whole ride over on the ocean. I ordered a coffee, black, as your forehead crinkled. “You’re not hungry?” Your disappointment hit me like a kick to the stomach.

“Oh, I — I ate.” You knew it was a lie, I could see from the way your eyes flashed with confusion, but you didn’t press. At least I didn’t make a habit of lying after that.

My hand found yours again across the table, and again that smile lit up your whole face. “Here’s to beginnings, yeah?”

You blushed, as if on cue, and said, “You don’t think I’m a bore?”

I laughed. “Hardly. I find you the most fascinating thing in the universe.”

I knew those were the right words as soon as I said them.

And you’re still the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. What are the chances?