The moment the car door shut, Damian exploded.

“That little brat—thinking he can look you in the eye after what he did? After what he said?” he snapped, ripping off his jacket and throwing it in the backseat.

You didn’t say anything.

You leaned your head against the window, the late afternoon sun kissing your skin, casting your expression in warm gold.

“And that Maribelle,” he sneered, tugging at his collar, “with her prim little smile and trembling hands like she’s some dainty peacemaker. Disgusting. Pathetic.”

He drove fast. Too fast. Windows down, wind in his hair. His jaw clenched like it was trying to keep his rage inside, but it didn’t work.

“He looked like you, and still he couldn’t understand you. Still couldn’t read your silence. Still couldn’t see what he ripped out of you when he picked her.”

You giggled.

Soft. Barely audible over the wind. But it was real.

He looked at you instantly, his expression startled. “What?”

You just shook your head, laughing lightly, a hand shielding your smile. “You’re really mad.”

“I’m livid,” he muttered. “You should’ve let me hit him.”

You rolled your eyes. “You wouldn’t hit our son.”

He didn’t answer.

You smiled, a little broken still, but no longer cracked open. “Where are we going?”

“The beach,” he replied, as if it was the only place left in the world.

—

The sand was warm. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in soft peach and lavender. You took off your shoes, letting your toes sink into the shore. Damian walked beside you, a step behind, watching the hem of your dress flutter like a tide.

You didn’t speak much. You didn’t need to.

He came up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as you stood still at the edge of the sea. The waves touched your feet, then rolled back, gentle.

“I don’t care how many sons we have,” he whispered against your hair. “No one will ever have my heart like you do.”

You leaned back into him. “Not even our grandchildren?”

“Not even the stars, darling.”

The breeze picked up, tousling your hair. Damian buried his face in your neck, breathing you in like he was afraid you’d disappear too.

You stayed there a long time. Just you and him. Salt air. Warm hands. The sun melting into the horizon.

You eventually said, “He still loves me.”

Damian’s arms tightened.

You added, “But not the way you do.”

He kissed your shoulder softly. “No one ever will.”