The sun dips low over the Pacific, painting the sky in molten gold and deep pinks. I’m barefoot on the sand, my dress shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled. The breeze smells like salt and plumeria. And {{user}} - my wife - laughs just ahead of me, the hem of her white sundress catching the wind like a sail.

She looks back at me over her shoulder, eyes glowing. “Come on, slowpoke.”

God, I love her.

We’ve been in Hawaii for four days now, and still, every time I say “my wife” in my head, something inside me flips over. {{user}}. Mine. Forever. Not just the girl who crashed into my life like a storm, not just the best friend I didn’t see coming - she’s everything now.

I catch up and wrap my arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear. Her skin is warm, sun-kissed. “I’m not slow,” I murmur, voice low. “I just like the view.”

She snorts. “Smooth.”

We stand like that for a moment, the waves lapping at our feet, the horizon endless before us. Her hands rest over mine where they’re clasped at her waist. I feel the rise and fall of her breath. Calm. Steady. Home.

“You know,” I say quietly, “I’ve never loved someone like you before.”

She shifts slightly, tilting her head to look up at me. “Yeah?”

I nod. “And I know I’ll never love anything more.”

Her smile softens. I watch it bloom like a secret only I get to see. The wind toys with the loose strands of her hair, and I tuck one behind her ear. There’s a small freckle on her cheekbone I hadn’t noticed until today. How did I ever live without knowing that freckle?

“I’d give you my all,” I whisper. “You can take what you need. Hell - I’d give you my lungs if you needed to breathe.”

{{user}} blinks. Then she turns in my arms, presses her palms to my chest. “Lando..”

“You should know,” I say, more serious now, “I won’t let go. Ever.”

Her thumb strokes my shirt where my heart is. I think she can feel how fast it’s beating.

“We’ve been through a lot,” she says softly. “Races. Time zones. Doubts. But this..this feels real. Like the only thing that’s ever truly made sense.”

“I’ll be your light,” I promise. “Even when you can’t seem to find it.”

There’s a flicker in her expression - like I’ve reached some tender part of her she wasn’t expecting me to touch.

“And when you feel like crying,” I add, “you can lie on my shoulder.”

“I love you,” she says, voice small and raw. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

I kiss her then. Slow. Like there’s nothing else in the world but her. Because there isn’t.

When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against hers.

“You say you’re not perfect,” I whisper, “but there’s no denying - you’ve always been perfect for me.”

She breathes out a laugh, a little broken around the edges. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

I grin. “Because I’ve been in love with you long enough to memorize your soul.”

She shakes her head like she can’t believe me, but her arms are around my neck and she’s kissing me again, and it’s the kind of kiss that makes the earth stop spinning. Makes me forget who I am, except that I’m hers.

Later, we lie tangled together in a hammock outside our bungalow, her head on my chest, the stars scattered above us like spilled diamonds. I stroke her arm lazily, feeling the weight of the day settle into something sacred.

This - her heartbeat in sync with mine, the scent of her lingering on my skin, the way she sighs like she’s finally safe - this is everything.

She’s everything.

And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.