The resort, the island, the Bahamas themselves, were honestly whatever to in comparison to the real reason I was there. Hannah. I loved watching her rejoice in so much happiness and freedom; it was infectious. While it wasn’t like I wasn’t enjoying myself, watching her have fun was the best part of my vacation. It really felt like we were finally newlyweds. I decided to mark the date in my phone so that maybe we could consider the first day of that vacation as our wedding anniversary. The real one would forever be tainted with the mory of the motivations for why it took place. This one wouldn’t. This was a choice made all on our own because we loved each other.
We stepped onto the boat, and everything was just as I pictured. The deck of the yacht had a bar, a small dance floor, string lights, and a single dinner table. I walked her over to the table and pulled out her chair for her and pushed it in. When I sat down with her, the staff didn’t wait around to serve us. A seafood al was served, much like the one we had when we first arrived. Only this one was served with desserts and all the champagne Hannah could have ever wanted.
"You do too much for ," Hannah blushed as she took it all in.
"Too much?" I huffed. "I don’t think there is such a thing."
"This looks like it took a lot of effort for everyone to pull off. It’s not that it’s too much, but," Hannah bit down on her lip.
She didn’t need to finish the thought. I reached across the table and held both of her hands tightly in my grasp. "If I could afford to buy you the moon, I would. This is nothing but a gesture to show you the newfound understanding of the feelings I have for you. I guess, coincidentally, my way of expressing love is through gifts. You can always let know if it makes you uncomfortable and I’ll scale it back."
"Anyone who would complain about this is silly," she blushed and shyly t my gaze. "I just don’t want you to think I need all this. Just spending ti with you is enough for . We could have gone to a crappy motel at Myrtle or Atlantic Beach, and I would have been just as happy."
"I know," I stated breezily, and gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. "That doesn’t an that you don’t deserve this."
She nodded and leaned over the table to give a kiss.
With that, we comnced our al and evening. It was a picturesque scene as the sun began to set. Dolphins leapt out of the water in the distance. The moon was hanging right over head. What could have been better?
The small, local band I hired struck up a song, and I noticed Hannah swaying to the rhythm as we ate and drank. The mont she pushed her plate away, I snagged both of her hands once more and pulled her to the dance floor. The singer of the band exclaid and played a salsa song.
I wasn’t the best dancer, but I knew so basic moves thanks to my days of clubbing. I led the dance through so basic steps of a salsa routine. Hannah was beaming up at with surprise and amazent, and I drank in the reaction.
I had never been a religious man, but I found myself thinking, if Heaven was what you make it as so people said it was, then my Heaven would be Hannah and in the Bahamas for all eternity. Drinking, dancing, playing, and eating as though there were no tomorrow. Yeah, that would be quite alright with .
The song shifted and the rhythm slowed. I got to pull Hannah into my chest, hold one hand in mine, and the other on her waist. She mirrored my position, but her hand rested on my shoulder. "This is just magical," she breathed, her eyes gleaming.
"Nope, it’s our life now," I smiled. "We’ll have getaways every chance we get. We can dance in every country, if you want. Make it a personal goal of ours. I an, certain ones may be a little difficult, like North Korea, but I can see what I can do."
She laughed and playfully and softly hit my chest. "I think I can live without going to restricted countries. Maybe just the accessible ones with good food."
"Fair enough," I grinned. We continued to sway, and I pulled her tightly against . "I want you to always look forward to these trips; for us to always have one in the planning stage. I have a feeling that our life together is always going to be a little crazy, and ti together might regularly be restricted to having dinner and getting in bed at the of long days, but I’m always going to make ti for you as often as I can. Especially tis like this, where we won’t have any sort of distraction, you know?"
"I’d like that," she smiled.
She leaned in and gave a kiss, and I lded into her lips.
God, I didn’t know it could feel like this. It was like she was literally half of my heart. I would have dived into shark infested waters for her, walked to the ends of the earth barefoot, or even given up my billionaire lifestyle if that was what it took to have her with . Hannah Macalester had managed to wrangle and ta the rich playboy I had once been, without ever putting in any effort. All she had ever done was be herself and be soone so lovable that I couldn’t resist.
Life was looking like it was going to be sothing made of daydreams.
After we tired of dancing for the ti being, we went to the bar, had so rather stiff cocktails, and got tipsy. We giggled, joked, and chatted the night away. I hung on her every word, and she hung on mine. We were perfectly simpatico with one another, and I couldn’t believe it. I loved her so much. My mind went in beautiful little circles, unable to believe my luck that we had fallen into a perfect sort of love.
We weren’t the type to argue or get mad regularly. We were perfectly aligned with one another. I never thought I would have been thankful for walking into the Auction House, but I knew, looking at Hannah, that it was the best decision I had made. Gunshot wound included, if it ant I got to have a week like that one was turning out to be with her.
Eventually, it beca evident that Hannah had a little too much to drink. After requesting the yacht to dock, I lifted her onto my back and began the process of piggybacking her to the room. She giggled along the way and humd one of the songs that the band had played.
"Roman, Roman," she slurred slightly.
"Yes, dear?" I asked.
"We don’t have a song," she stated. "Most couple’s have songs, you know? They play them at their wedding all of that. We don’t have one."
"Well, what do you think it should be?" I asked, unable to wipe the smile from my face.
"That slow song they played. When we slow danced," she replied imdiately. "Do you know the na of it?"
"Not a clue," I laughed lightly. "I can ask them and get back to you on that, deal?"
"Deal," she giggled. Oh, my heart was so warm and full. Even drunk, Hannah was impossibly cute.
Finally, getting back to the room, I laid her on the bed and helped her undress to be comfortable. After I made sure she drank so water, had a snack, and was tucked in, I grabbed myself a beer from the fridge and sat by the glass window that faced the ocean.
I thought over everything that had been, everything that was, and everything that would be. It was weird to find myself aligning with one of the most cliché and overused phrases that for most of my life was a cop out. It was so true, though. I gazed back over to Hannah to see her cuddling her pillow with a smile on her face. Nothing more than the sight of her proved to the saying as old as ti, was true.
Everything happens for a reason.
Hannah was my reason. Our love was my reason. She had breathed purpose into my life and now I was nothing more than a lovey dovey sap. A younger version of myself would have done nothing but laugh at . Yet all I could do was smile. Could there be any better way to be, than in love? I couldn’t think of any place in my life I had been happier. I had always had money, girls, booze—anything had been at my fingertips. It all felt empty compared to what I had with her.
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