Page 133 of When Sky Breaks
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
sky
EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER
The turquoise water bubbles and gently sweeps against the shore, sending tiny grains of sand in between my toes. As a child, I dreamed of the ocean, its depiction only available on TV or in the few books I could get my hands on.
Nothing can prepare you for the cleansing salt in the air or the reflection of the warm sun off the rolling waves. The last I visited a beach, it was with Johnny and he had me doing so many outdoor activities; I didn’t get to stop and fully appreciate the vast swell of the waves, the scent of suntan lotion, and the peaceful mood of a tropical paradise.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” August asks as he wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder like he always does. When I’m reading, or cooking, or watching TV, he finds his spot in the crook of my neck and breathes me in.
Overcome with emotion, I swallow my tears. “Gorgeous. So much better in person.” I squeeze his hands with mine, feeling the warm metal of our wedding bands touch. “Want to take a picture?”
He pulls away and walks to our towels and bags, plucking out his camera and holding it up. “Our long overdue honeymoon wouldn’t be complete without photographic evidence.”
I chuckle. “I like the memories we’ve made off camera, too.”
He smirks because he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
Our wedding day last month was one for the books. And quite literally was. Word got around that my successful and sexy travel photographer fiancé was getting married, and there was a battle for who would take the pictures. In the end, his Uncle Spencer did the honors and, under August’s creative eye, submitted our photos to a magazine, which then ended up in yet another photography book, proudly displayed in our house next to the others.
“Where do you want me to stand?”
August positions me with the ocean as the backdrop. Then he sets his tripod a few feet in front of the boardwalk leading to the cute little house we rented on a private beach. Because of conflicting work schedules, we couldn’t take our honeymoon right away, but it worked out for us. This sweet cottage was going through renovations and was finally available when it was time to book our trip.
He sets the timer and jogs next to me while the camera runs down the seconds.
Anticipation swells in my body as I reach into the pocket of my swimsuit cover and take out the plastic stick I’ve been hiding.
Five seconds left.
I hope I time this right.
“August?”
He looks down, and his blazing smile falls for a fraction of a second. “You okay?”
I nod, grabbing his hand and placing the stick in his palm, confusion rippling over his features.
“What is thi—?” He cuts himself off when he reads it, his mouth opening in shock.
The camera flashes, and I know I’ve got it on film.
“You’re pregnant?” he asks, a smile widening. Tears gloss over my eyes as I cup my mouth and move my head up and down.
“I had a feeling, so I bought a test when I went into town for groceries while you unpacked our bags. It’s very early, but yes, you’re going to be a daddy.”
August sweeps me into his arms and hugs me tight, my arms around his neck, my lips on his stubble cheek, and my fingers in his hair. He let it grow out some more, and the thick, dusky brown locks curl around his ears.
He’s beautiful. Especially when he smiles like this.
Burying his head to my chest, I feel his warm breaths on my skin and the tightening of his fingers around my waist.
He stays like this for a few minutes. A rolling sensation moves through my stomach when he doesn’t say anything. His body becomes stiff and unyielding, cold under my touch.
“Babe, are you all right?” I ask, lifting his head with my hands.