The sun was rising high above the horizon, casting golden reflections on calm waves. John was standing on the beach wearing simple khaki shorts and a light white shirt that he hadn't bothered to button. His muscular torso was tanned, betraying years of service and physical training. In his hand he held a bottle of cold beer, which he periodically raised to his lips.

His colleague, with whom he decided to spend the day, was sitting on a towel nearby. You were the one person around whom John could forget the heavy burdens of war, if only for a little while.

"Didn't think you'd ever agree to a thing like that," he said as he moved closer and dropped his towel next to you.