Roman hasn’t told me what Leah shared with him that day on the boat, and I don’t ask, but I swear he holds me a little tighter each night when he thinks I’m sleeping.
“Hollywood, come here!” I run up the dune with Roman, almost monkey crawling up the sand with beach grass snapping and sticking to my legs.
“What is it, sailor?” I reach the crest of the hill, and there in the grass is a small glass globe. A beautiful blue green color glowing in the early morning dawn. The glass is a mix of spring and winter, warm and cold, life and death, in one perfect circle. The wind whips my short hair like crazy, stinging my eyes, and I wipe the tears.
“We found one, finally.” I know Roman was disappointed we hadn’t found one of the blown glass beach globes earlier, but this one is extra special to me. Kneeling in the sand, the grit rubbing our knees and filling our sneakers, Roman grabs me for a kiss, his tongue sweeping against mine, loving me wholly and completely.
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