The plane touched down smoothly, a gentle shudder rolling through the cabin as wheels met land.
"Mmm… Ezra," Mellody whispered, brushing his shoulder. "We're here."
His eyes opened slowly. The dizziness was still there — faint, like a bruise you forget until you press it — but it wasn't overwhelming anymore.
"I'm okay," he said before she could ask. "Better than before."
She studied his face for a moment, searching for cracks, then smiled."Good. Because you're about to see the most beautiful place we'll ever ruin with our presence."
Outside the window, the Triplet Islands stretched out — turquoise water, white curves of sand, green cliffs catching the late light. The air felt warmer already, softer.
During the drive to the hotel, Mellody talked nonstop.
"The resort's near Mijgor City, but far enough that it's quiet. Glass walls. Ocean view. Private terrace."She glanced at him. "You're going to love it."
Ezra nodded, watching palm trees blur past."Feels… unreal," he said."Like a place that doesn't belong to the world."
She laughed. "That's called a vacation."
The penthouse was exactly as promised — wide, open, white stone and glass, the sea visible from almost every angle. Waves breathed against the shore far below, rhythmic and steady.
Ezra dropped onto the couch, exhaling deeply."Okay… yeah. This helps."
Mellody smiled and rolled up her sleeves."Rest. I'll unpack before you fall asleep standing."
He watched her move — efficient, calm, familiar — arranging clothes, lining up essentials, making the place theirs piece by piece.
"You don't have to do everything," he said.
"I want to," she replied softly. "This is our space."
She disappeared into the kitchen and soon returned with two cups of coffee, the smell rich and grounding.
She handed one to him and sat beside him on the couch, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"Still dizzy?" she asked quietly.
"A little," he admitted. "But it's… quieter now."
She leaned her head against his shoulder."Good. We'll take it slow. No rushing. No pressure. Just us."
They drank in silence for a while, listening to the ocean.
Eventually, Mellody stood."I'll make dinner. Simple. Don't argue."
"I wasn't going to."
She cooked without fuss — nothing fancy, just warm food made with care. By the time she set the plates on the table, the sky outside had deepened into soft evening blues.
They ate together, talking about small things — what they'd do tomorrow, which beach to start with, how early was too early for scuba.
Ezra laughed more than he expected to.
After dinner, exhaustion settled in gently.
They cleaned up together, then retreated to the bedroom where moonlight slipped through sheer curtains.
Mellody curled into him, her arm draped over his chest, fingers resting near the locket.
"Tomorrow," she murmured, half-asleep, "our honeymoon really starts."
Ezra closed his eyes, holding her close.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Tomorrow."
For the first time in a long while, he let himself believe it.
The ocean breathed. The night held. And they slept — waiting for morning to begin their honeymoon.