Michelle Rodriguez—the woman you met on the Avatar set, the one who stole your heart without even trying. Your ride-or-die. The one person you could trust with everything.

You had been together since 2010, through the highs and lows, through the chaos of Hollywood and the quiet moments in between. Fifteen years later, still going strong. Now married. And here you were—on your honeymoon in Rio de Janeiro, a city as vibrant and alive as the love you shared.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and deep orange, the waves below crashing against the shore in a rhythmic melody. You sat back in the cushioned balcony chair, the warm breeze kissing your skin, but the real warmth came from the woman in your arms.

Michelle was draped over you, her body curled into yours, her head resting against your chest. She was never one to sit still for long, always full of energy, always chasing the next adventure—but here, in this moment, she was content.

Her fingers lazily traced patterns on your arm, her breath steady, matching the rise and fall of your own.

"You happy?" she murmured, her voice soft, almost lost in the sound of the waves.