Chapter 10 - The Horizon
Three months later, the Mediterranean sun was warm against my skin.
Daniel and I sat on the private balcony of a small stone villa overlooking the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast. A plate of figs, fresh ricotta, and warm bread sat between us alongside two espresso cups.
My phone chimed from inside the room. It was on the desk, where it stayed for most of the day.
When I checked it later that afternoon, there were three messages.
One was an email from my bank: all old recurring family accounts had been cleanly dissolved, my credit scores were pristine, and our automated joint investment deposits had completed without issue.
The second was a voicemail from Dad. His voice was subdued, hesitant, stripped of the old commanding authority. He talked about the weather, asked if Italy was nice, and mentioned that Chloe had taken an entry-level job at an insurance office and was renting a modest one-bedroom apartment with Tyler. He didn't ask for money. He didn't mention the wedding. He closed by saying he hoped we were having a restful trip.
The third was a photo from Maya of our living room back home, where she was house-sitting, showing the newly framed portraits from our wedding day that had just arrived from the photographer.
In the center portrait, Daniel and I were laughing under the garden arch, framed by white flowers and clear blue sky. There were no pink clouds, no blue smoke, no shadows of manufactured obligations. Just two people who had chosen each other completely.
Daniel stepped out onto the terrace behind me, placing a fresh cup of coffee near my hand, leaning down to kiss my temple.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
May you like
I took a deep breath of the sea air, leaning back into his chest, feeling the absolute, unbreakable quiet of my own life.
“Nothing,” I said, smiling as I watched the boats glide across the blue horizon. “Not a single thing that doesn't belong to us.”
