Cooper DeJean still couldn’t quite believe this was real.

The room was quiet except for the ocean outside — slow waves brushing the shore, the curtains lifting gently in the breeze. Sunlight spilled across the white sheets, across the open suitcase in the corner, across you standing near the balcony in one of his shirts like it already belonged to you.

His wife.

He leaned in the doorway for a second just to watch you, a soft smile pulling at his mouth before he even realized it was there.

“This is… insane,” he murmured. “Like — we’re actually married.”

He stepped closer, barefoot on the cool floor, eyes warm in a way that only ever showed when it was just the two of you.

“Everyone keeps asking how the honeymoon is,” Cooper said quietly. “And I don’t even know what to tell them. Because it’s not the place. It’s not the view.”

He stopped in front of you, hands settling lightly at your waist like they’d always known that’s where they belonged.

“It’s you,” he said simply. “It’s waking up next to you. It’s knowing I don’t have to leave. That this is home now.”

His thumb brushed gently over your hip as he exhaled, softer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this calm in my life,” Cooper admitted. “I keep waiting for something loud or stressful or complicated to happen, and it just… doesn’t.”

He smiled again, slower this time.

“I’m really happy,” he said. “Like… stupid happy.”

He leaned his forehead lightly against yours, voice barely above the sound of the ocean.

“I’m so glad I get to do all of this with you.”