When you feel deeply, you can stop time.
The sun dawns strangely on the day they have to leave everything behind. It does not dawn, not really. The sky is more gray than blue. The wind coming in from the sea carries a tang like ozone.
They leave behind a room washed clean, a bed neatly made, windows left partly open to allow the air to circulate. They leave behind a closet that is only a bare pipe hammered to the ceiling that they should never have been using to hang clothes. They leave stacks of books, some of them without reading, an old record player and its handful of records, drawings and puzzles, some found, some made. They leave a mismatched dining set, worn seats, a blue and red hammock that sways gently behind them in the breeze. They leave things they lost, things they have no name for, things they kept only because they did not want to throw them away.
They leave the door open so when they think back it may welcome them home.
They walk over wet sand, carrying nothing but themselves and memory. The waves lap over their feet almost seeming to pull them back.
Through a shimmering tear in the greenery ahead, the starlight is frozen in silver-white streaks.
∞
It felt like serendipity that they stumbled through the rift into the cove. The beach that formed one part of it had only two entrances: a narrow, treacherous-looking path winding down the black cliffs or, snaking underneath a massive arch of stone, a sandy road that only appeared during low tide. It was secluded and perfect—an idea someone had before them given the hut they discovered.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while,” Taylor observed. She was right; vines and flowers had taken it over. Sean kept her behind him.
“I’ll check it out.”
The inside was similar. Vines slipped through the empty squares of the windows. He thought he saw something skitter away. The wooden floors groaned under his weight. The light was surprisingly bright; despite the green growth around it, the place was well-aired, the windows cut into the walls letting in the warm daylight and the refreshing sea breeze. There was space for a small kitchen, a combined dining and living room. An open door lead into what must have been a bedroom, a frame still pushed into a corner. Despite the years of neglect, the space had an air of possibility.
Taylor pushed past him to explore. Her dark eyes were wide on her face as she turned to face him.
“Sean.”
She did not say anything else. Yet looking at her Sean knew they shared the same thought. He took her by the hands, smiling down at her.
His name on her lips was the most beautiful sound he had heard.
∞
The full moon floats hugely over the still water. There is probably a scientific explanation for it why it looks so big, shines so bright tonight. There is an equally good if not better chance that this is yet another effect of the island’s craziness.
On any other night, the sight would be breathtaking. But this moon has competition. Red on the horizon. White on the tears. So much light makes her easy to spot despite the lateness of the hour.
Standing in the water, the water at her calves, she looks toward the arch and the path drowned by the high tide. Calling her name, he wades toward her. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, and she leans into him.
I feel it, she breathes so quietly he is not sure he did not imagine it. Something cold prickles down his spine. His hold tightens around her shoulders; she turns further into his embrace. He stares in the direction she was, but there is nothing but the dark tunnel, the black water, the flickering reflections.
Back in their bed, they hold each other so close their breaths mingle. She runs her fingers lightly over the stubble on his face. He traces her spine from her nape to the small of her back and up again. Neither speaks. Neither sleeps.
∞
They did not finish fixing their home until they draped it in flowers in the Vaanti tradition. The bloom over Taylor’s ear seemed to have opened further if it were at all possible to take in the warm yellow sunlight. Weeks of working under the sun had darkened her already tanned skin, and lent her an almost golden glow. But it was her smile that truly threatened to outshine everything around her as she laid the last string of orchids on the roof of the house.
Sean helped her slide off his shoulders, pulling her close even as he set her on the ground. Taylor wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Neither could stop smiling.
“We have a house,” she enthused, nearly vibrating in her excitement.
“We have a house,” he repeated, grinning. He pulled her in for a sweet kiss. “What do you want to do first?”
“I want to touch everything.”
Sean barked a surprise laugh.
“Not what I was thinking of, but good plan.”
She clapped her hands together in delight and took off. Sean watched her go, his chest as warm and full as it had ever felt. He had lost counts of how many times he had fallen in love with his wife and here he was happily falling all over again.
He followed after her slowly, surveying the interior. The damage had not been as extensive as he had feared. They had replaced what needed replacing, installed new windows and a door and cleaned for days. The furniture was an eclectic mix of Elyss’tel, the manor, even some pieces that would not have been out of place on a pirate ship.
It caught him off guard how normal it felt.
The house was small so it was not long before Taylor found him again. He sat at the table, winding a coil of rope around his arm. A palm tree leaned nearby. He thought of tying a hammock between it and the house as a surprise for Taylor. Coming up behind him, she hugged him around the neck. Dropping the rope, Sean leaned his head back with a smile.
“Did you finish touching everything?”
Taylor inclined her head coyly. In her hands she held a red hibiscus. She drew the wide silken petals from his ear down to his collarbone. “Not everything.”
Further home improvement plans were put on hold that afternoon.
∞
He almost walks directly into a tear. It had not been here the day before; it marks the fourth in a week. When he peers through it, he glimpses a snow-capped mountain and frosted evergreens. He studies it in silence for a long time before turning away. She will enjoy a few hours spent playing in the snow, he thinks. And it gives them an excuse to break out the hot chocolate mix they had salvaged and had not yet brewed because the tropical nights were so balmy.
Before he gets back to the house, he takes a detour via the cave. With the tide going out, only a thin layer of water remains on the sandy floor. The waves lap gently at his feet. His eyes roam over the marks. He counts them once, twice.
Grabbing a rock, he etches one more.
∞
Sean grabbed Taylor by the hand as she passed by and tugged her into the hammock with him. She exclaimed in surprise as she fell onto him, his arms immediately wrapping around her. She pushed herself up with a huff, fixing him with a mock irritated expression.
“Don’t you have something you should be doing right now?”
He nodded. “I’m doing it.”
“And what would that be?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m admiring my beautiful wife.”
She snaked her hand to his side to pinch him. He yelped and she laughed. The struggle ended as soon as Sean pinned her against him. Taylor set her chin on the back of her hand. Her eyes were warm.
“Who would have ever guessed that Sean Gayle is a terrible influence?”
“Hey, I have well-established priorities,” he protested. “And letting my wife know I love her is always first.”
“Oh, really?” Her eyes twinkled. “I must have missed that part.”
“Then let me show you.” He tugged her up higher to capture her in a kiss. When they separated, she rested her head on his shoulder. One of her hands fiddled idly with his collar. Sean played with her hair. He felt her smile against his throat.
“Having fun?”
“Mm.” Sean made an assenting sound in his throat. “Loads.”
Taylor gave a little jerk to her head, sending her curls into a tizzy.
“Will you leave my hair alone? As if the humidity hasn’t wreaked enough havoc.”
“I love your hair.” He nosed her hair before kissing the top of her head. Without looking, he knew she was rolling her eyes.
“You have to say that. We’re married.”
Sean hid a smile against her temple.
“We are. But I still do. ‘Every ounce and every hair,’ remember?”
She thwacked his shoulder playfully. “You are such a dork.”
“And you married me. So that makes you Mrs. Dork.”
Taylor raised her head. “When did we agree that I was changing my name? Maybe you should take mine.”
“Fine,” Sean agreed easily. “I like the sound of Mr. Hero.”
Taylor burst out laughing and Sean immediately joined in. He couldn’t not—not when she was smiling and relaxed and in his arms.
“I love that sound,” he managed as soon as he stopped laughing, tugging her closer.
Her hand splayed across his chest. She looked up at him, eyes shining. Her kiss was as warm as the day.
∞
She tries to bury him in the sand and gives up halfway, claiming she would need a bulldozer to finish the job. He fashions her a mermaid’s tail, spending too much time shaping scales and fins, and she kisses him when he is done. She fixes a seashell bra for him so they can live together under the sea and he models it with pride.
He leaves to get them some refreshments and comes back to find her floating in the waves. He starts toward her when a whisper catches his attention. He follows it close to the rocks at the side of their beach. An opalescent shell in every shade of blue and purple lies in the damp sand. Her voice issues from it in a sweet echo: I love you, Sean Gayle… I love you, Sean Gayle…
∞
To celebrate six months, they planned a romantic evening. A meal. Popping open a bottle (or two) of champagne. Dancing to an old record player they salvaged from a rift.
Taylor bathed first so when Sean got out of the tub and walked back to their room it was to the sight of her in her white dress from New Year’s, her still damp curls shining, stretching down her bare back. Her eyes were focused on herself in the mirror as she painted her lips red.
Noticing him, she straightened slowly. Her eyes were darker, the long lashes fuller. A corner of her lips lifted in response to his open-mouthed stare.
“What?”
“On second thought, I want to stay here and I want to rip that off you.”
Taylor took a step back. She wagged a finger at him. “Uh-uh, wet, naked man. I did not get dressed this nice so you can just rip it all off immediately.” She paused. “No ripping at all, actually. I like this dress.”
Sean grinned slyly. “All right, no ripping the dress. What about the underwear?”
Taylor tapped a scarlet lip. “You could. Only…” She waited to finish her sentence at the door when she aimed a cheeky smirk over her shoulder that made Sean’s breath catch. “I’m not wearing any.”
Her laughter floated over the sound of his wounded groans.
∞
They share in the meal, feeding each other as many bites as they take themselves. They polish off a bottle of champagne, yet they are drunk on each other long before the bubbles rise to their heads. They dance on the beach hours after the music has ended, swaying together under the moonlight, the sand cool between their toes. They wake wrapped around one another, skin to skin, the early dawn painting them gold.
∞
“I found another tear in the cove,” Sean said when he heard the door open. It was the second one. There were more in the forest and up the cliffs so it should not have come as a surprise. But this was the second to appear in their cove. The second too near their home.
He could almost ignore the horizon now, and he tried not to search out the tear beyond the arch. This was yet another reminder. And after the fight…
“I saw it. But I actually found something else.”
She sounded strange. Sean looked up. He could make out a blurry Taylor holding an even blurrier…something.
“What is that?”
“Would you put your contacts back in? You really are blind as a bat.”
Sean chuckled, before doing as she asked. Taylor shook her head.
“I’ve watched you do that so many times and it still freaks me out.”
“What did you find?” he asked. Her visage was in clear focus once more. There was a slight curl to the corner of her lips that meant she had something planned. Whatever it was she was currently holding behind her back.
“First, I want to know how much you love me.”
Sean narrowed his eyes playfully. “Suspicious.”
“Come on,” she sang. “How much.”
“Would it be too cliche to say to the end of the universe and back?”
“The cliche is to the moon,” she corrected him. He grinned.
“Yeah, but that’s not a big enough number.”
A blush dusted her cheeks in response.
“I had been hoping to say you’ll love me even more now, but I guess I can make do with you loving me an infinite amount.”
From behind her back she revealed a book: the first part of The Crown and the Flame.
Sean’s mouth dropped open. “How—? Where—?”
“Someone’s apparently a fan.” She was smiling as she handed it over. “I remembered you were too so I thought you might like having it with you. And I expect dramatic readings.”
Touched, Sean hugged her tight.
“I’ll read it for you, but the part I’d dedicate to you is in another book.”
“Which one?”
Sean set the book on the table and took both of her hands in his. Standing straight, he met her curious gaze and watched a slow smile transform her face as she realized which scene he was quoting.
“Sometimes I look at you, and I catch my own reflection in your eyes, and I see this other person right there, within my reach. Like a suit of shining armor I could step into. Taylor,” he concluded, changing the dedication, “you make me a better man.”
“That’s not fair.” Her blush had darkened and her eyes shone. “I give you a present and you try to make me cry.”
“I mean it.” Sean caressed her knuckles. “I couldn’t have made it without you, Taylor. You’ve been my hero every step of the way. I never thought I’d meet someone like you, much less get to marry my Kenna.”
“Sean…” She stepped toward him and he gathered her in his arms. He kissed her cheek, her neck, buried his face in her shoulder.
“I never told you…” she began quietly. Sean raised his head. Taylor’s hand cupped his cheek. Her eyes seemed too old for her face. “Before she disappeared, the Endless passed me her memories. All of the thousands of times that she tried to fix the puzzle. And in all of them…you loved me.”
She said the words like it was a surprise. A gift. One she had not expected.
Sean could not fathom a universe in which he did not love her.
Before he could tell her just that, she continued, “I think the Clockmaker was wrong. Time isn’t the soul of the universe. I loved you no matter how far we were from each other. And I have loved you so many times. Through space and time…love remains.”
He had spent countless hours lost in a fantasy world of dragons and krakens, crowns and knights. His copies of the books had been dogeared and creased. He had to replace the first book after he cracked the spine. He imagined himself into an epic adventure of good versus evil.
He found the adventure he dreamed of in loving a woman who stepped into his path on a plane bound for a tropical vacation.
What he forgot to ask for was time.
∞
When he finds the wall, he stands in front of it for a long time, an ugly emotion he cannot name brewing in his chest.
His eyes trace over the pale marks etched into the stone. Dozens of them. Stretching from floor to ceiling of the cave. He is not sure what makes his stomach roil: that she has been making these marks or that she has been doing so secretly. If not for the low tide…if not for the glint of metal that drew him inside…
She promised honesty. This is not honesty.
She greets him with a smile, one that fades into a frown when she takes in his expression. That, too, changes; guilt and shame color her when he tells her what he found. She looks away, shaking her head. The unnamed emotion that festered on the walk back grows a head he recognizes: anger.
They have had their disagreements. Living together, it is to be expected. This is a fight. Accusations fly from either side, as sharp as arrows and just as accurate. No one is left unscathed. No one wins.
He pushes away from her, the house, the truth.
(His anger is not at her. And the shaking of his hands and the gasps he takes tell it is not anger, at all. But that is not something he can face. Not yet. Not yet.)
∞
The event of Taylor’s birthday began early.
Already awake, Sean stroked the smooth skin of her cheek and jaw and traced kisses over her nose and brow until he felt her stir. He smiled when a bleary eye opened.
“Happy birthday, sunshine.”
She groaned and hid her face against his chest. “The birthday girl isn’t here right now. Leave a message.”
“It’s to the birthday girl’s benefit if she gets up now.”
“Mm…” The sound was half a complaint, but Taylor stretched, giving him access to her neck and shoulders, her chest, her belly… He grinned, all too proud of himself, when he felt her fingers grip his short hair. Turning his head, he kissed a still quivering thigh.
“Don’t look so smug,” she managed when he met her gaze. There were equal parts desire and playful challenge in her brown eyes.
“I’m not smug.” Sean slid one of her legs over his shoulder. He aimed a cheeky grin her way. “Yet.”
He left her in bed—“Okay…you can be as smug as you want this time.”—and padded into the next room to pick up her surprise. He returned to their bedroom to find her sitting up, her hair mussed, the thin bedsheet twisted around her waist. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the tray in his hands and the assortment of foods perched there.
“You cooked?”
Taking a seat next to her, Sean carefully balanced the tray between them. “I wanted to surprise you. I’ll admit I cheated a bit. A lot of it was ready-made from the Celestial’s opening.”
“Of course, it was. We can’t be risking the kitchen.” A grateful smile touched her lips, nonetheless. “Thank you.”
She kissed him sweetly. When they parted, Sean knew his smile was as soft as her own.
“Only the best for my wife on her birthday.”
“I especially like the naked service,” she teased, trailing her fingers up his arm.
Sean picked up a warm roll and held it up to her mouth. Taylor obligingly took a bite out of it.
“Eat up. I have a whole day planned.”
They hiked up the cliffs to a spot overlooking the clear blue waters of the Caribbean. Holding hands, they leaped into the sea. The water closed over their heads, refreshingly cool and so impossibly clear. Bubbles streamed through Taylor’s black hair, and a myriad colors shimmered over her skin. He kissed her until he felt the burn for air in his lungs.
Hand-in-hand, they swam among strange and lovely sea creatures and colorful stones. When they grew tired, Sean lead them to a tiny mangrove island just off the shore. Among the thick, twisted roots, he found the backpack he had hidden there the day before. They alternated between water and champagne, devoured the snacks and lounged on a blanket when they weren’t climbing the mangroves, chasing animals or jumping into the water.
When the sun moved far enough in the sky to begin painting it orange and red, they packed up. As they got back to their beach, Taylor stopped him. Smiling up at him, she laid her hands on his chest.
“Thank you for a wonderful birthday.”
Sean kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Taylor laced her hands behind his neck. “I love you, Sean Gayle.”
Sean rested his forehead against hers.
“And I am always gonna love you.”
When he picked her up, her legs going around his waist, he could feel her heart hammering against his chest.
He did not mention the shine of tears in her eyes nor did he bring up the burn of them in his.
∞
The warm yellow sunlight pours through the jalousie windows and onto the wooden table. He reads an old book, one of many they found in a another rift. She returns to the table with the coffee he set to brew when he got out of bed. She fills her cup and refills his before taking a seat, a book of her own in her lap. Without looking up, his hand finds hers across the tabletop. He brings it to his mouth to kiss before setting it back down, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.
∞
The flower was still intact. When Sean slid it gently into her hair, Taylor met his gaze. His fingers traced a line around the curve of her ear, then across her jaw, brushed her cheek, her neck.
No matter how often he touched her it was never enough.
They left in the same clothes they had worn when they walked away: he in his favorite polo; she in the red suit the Endless left her. Despite the bulkiness of the suit, she looked small. She curled into his side when he wrapped an arm around her. The hand gripping his trembled, and he could not tell if it was her shaking or him.
He slipped through the rift first before helping her. She did not need it, but he could not help himself. On the roof, everything was the same. For one moment, Sean marveled again at the impossible size of the vortex above them. At its unnatural stillness. Taylor let out a breath and it was as if the world let out its breath with her. The wind lashed at them and all around was chaos.
Something in him was screaming not enough, not enough. But when the time came, he braced her against the pillar without thought. His heart hammered against his ribs hard enough to bruise even as he swore to her she was not going anywhere, he would keep her with him—
Hours later, he sat at the railing of the boat they had all been waiting for. His friends hovered near him, but they were largely quiet. Sean was grateful for it. They all lost Taylor, but they did not yet know the extent of his loss—and he did not know how to begin to explain that with her went a dream, a life lived.
He did not know how to begin to grasp the enormity of it himself.
It was the sound of her name that dragged his attention. He fumbled with his phone as soon as he realized what had happened. His hands were shaking as he waited, his heart in his mouth, for his phone to turn on. Tears pricked his eyes as he heard her again; his vision swam when he heard his name.
His name from her mouth remained the most thrilling sound in the universe.
I promised you a year and a day. My only wish is that I’d had more to give…
∞
The horizon burns. Everything around them is still. Not a twitch from their friends. Not a hint of a breeze.
A hand slips into his. He looks down at their joined fingers, then up to Taylor’s beautiful face.
“You asked me to think of us,” she says before he can speak. There is a sorrow in her brown eyes he hates to see, and hates more for knowing he cannot do anything about it.
He touches her cheek. The purple bloom in her hair seems to emit a faint glow, and suddenly he understands. He has to swallow past the sudden ache in his throat to speak and, when he does, his voice does not sound like his.
“That’s not enough.”
“I know,” she agrees. “But I made you a promise. No land. No sea.”
“No one can keep us apart,” he finishes for her.
His chest is tight to the point of pain and she has tears in her eyes, but all he can think as he pulls her closer is that the radiance of her smile shames even the stars.