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Chapter 21
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2026-07-07 21:38:54Chapter 21
Damian
“MARRY HIM AGAIN.”
I stared at the words in the sand.
Then at Harper. Then back at the words.
Neither of us spoke for several seconds.
Finally Harper sighed. “I’m starting to think the universe is involved.”
I laughed. “I was thinking the same thing.”
The giant message stretched across the beach directly in front of our villa. It was impossible to miss. Whoever created it had clearly put in a lot of effort.
Harper crossed her arms. “Should we be concerned?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I looked at her. “Because it’s probably harmless.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s optimistic.”
“I’m on vacation.”
“Good point.”
For a moment we simply stood there. Watching the waves roll across the shore. Watching the ridiculous message sitting in the sand.
Then Harper suddenly smiled. A beautiful smile. The kind that always distracted me. The kind that made concentrating impossible.
“What?”
I asked.
Her smile widened. “Would you?”
I frowned. “Would I what?”
“Marry me again.”
My heart immediately stopped. The question sounded casual. Playful. But something deeper hid beneath it. Something real. Something important.
I looked at her carefully. The moonlight reflected in her eyes. The ocean breeze moved through her hair. She looked beautiful. Dangerously beautiful.
“I would.”
The answer came without hesitation. Without thought. Without doubt.
Harper’s breath caught. For a second neither of us moved.
Then she looked away first. A blush immediately appeared.
I smiled. My wife blushed far too easily. Not that I was complaining.
“That was fast.”
I stepped closer. “Because I didn’t need time to think.”
The pink color deepened. Victory. Absolute victory.
Harper shook her head. “You enjoy embarrassing me.”
“Very much.”
“I knew it.”
I laughed. Then gently took her hand. The simple gesture felt natural now. Like breathing. Like marriage. Like home.
The realization settled warmly inside my chest.
Home.
Not the mansion. Not New York.
Her.
The next morning we woke up late.
Neither of us wanted to leave bed. Neither of us wanted the vacation to end.
Unfortunately time refused to cooperate.
Harper stretched beside me. Then immediately stole half the blanket.
I stared at her. She pretended not to notice. An obvious lie.
“Harper.”
No response.
“Harper.”
Still nothing.
I narrowed my eyes. “My wife is stealing my blanket.”
One eye opened. “It belongs to me now.”
I laughed. “The blanket?”
“Everything.”
The confidence nearly killed me. I moved closer.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
I looked around the room dramatically. “The villa too?”
“Yes.”
“The beach?”
“Yes.”
“The ocean?”
“Especially the ocean.”
I shook my head. “That’s ambitious.”
She smiled. “I learned from the best.”
The answer shouldn’t have made me as happy as it did. But it did. Very much.
Later that afternoon we rented bicycles and explored another part of the island.
Neither of us had ridden a bicycle in years. That became obvious immediately.
Harper nearly crashed into a palm tree. Twice. I laughed both times. She threatened violence both times.
The marriage was thriving. At least according to us.
By lunchtime we found a small restaurant overlooking the water. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. Just peaceful. Exactly what we wanted.
We sat outside beneath a large umbrella. The ocean sparkled nearby. A warm breeze filled the air. Everything felt perfect.
Harper looked happier than I had ever seen her. Relaxed. Free. Unburdened.
The sight alone made the entire trip worthwhile.
“You keep staring.”
I smiled. “You keep noticing.”
She rolled her eyes. Then laughed.
The sound immediately improved my day. Again.
Everything about this woman affected me. Everything.
The realization no longer worried me. Instead it felt right. Completely right.
A few minutes later our food arrived.
Harper immediately stole fries from my plate. Without permission. Without shame. Without hesitation.
I stared at her. She stared back.
“What?”
“You have your own.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you eating mine?”
“They taste better.”
I laughed. That logic made absolutely no sense. Yet somehow I accepted it.
Marriage was strange. Very strange. And apparently involved sharing fries.
Who knew?
The afternoon passed quickly.
We walked along the shore. Visited local shops. Took photographs together. Normal couple things. The kind of things neither of us had experienced in years.
Especially me.
For so long my life had been business. Responsibility. Pressure. Control.
Then Harper arrived. And somehow changed everything.
By evening we returned to the villa again. Tired. Happy. Sunburned.
Mostly Harper.
She insisted she was fine. She was not fine. Not even slightly.
“You should have used sunscreen.”
She glared at me. “You sound pleased.”
“I’m very pleased.”
“I hate you.”
I laughed. “No, you don’t.”
Unfortunately she laughed too. Which proved my point.
A little later we sat together on the balcony. The sunset painted the sky orange and gold. The view was breathtaking.
But honestly? I barely noticed.
Because Harper rested against my side. Because her hand remained in mine. Because she smiled every few minutes for absolutely no reason. And because I loved her.
The truth felt simple now. Certain. Permanent.
Harper suddenly looked up. Thoughtful. Dangerous.
That expression usually meant trouble.
“What?”
She smiled. “I have an idea.”
There it was. Trouble.
“What kind of idea?”
“The fun kind.”
I immediately became suspicious. Very suspicious.
Harper stood and disappeared inside. A minute later she returned carrying something.
I frowned. “What is that?”
Her smile became enormous. The answer should have worried me.
It did. A lot.
“A wedding planner brochure.”
I blinked. Then blinked again.
“A what?”
She sat beside me. Looking entirely too innocent.
“We’re already married.”
“Technically.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Technically?”
Harper opened the brochure. Then pointed at a photograph.
A beautiful beach wedding. White flowers. Ocean views. Sunset ceremony.
My heartbeat unexpectedly accelerated.
Because suddenly I knew exactly what she was suggesting.
Harper looked at me. Then softly asked the question that stole every thought from my mind.
“What if we had a real wedding?”
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