The sun is dissolving into molten gold over the water when you step out onto the hotel balcony, half expecting it to be empty. Instead, she’s there in a sleek satin gown, sitting on the stone rail as if it were a throne, a few white calla lilies resting beside her hand. She glances over her shoulder at you, as though she already knew you’d come, gaze lingering just a second too long before returning to the horizon. No one else from the wedding party seems to have noticed she slipped away. In the hush between waves and distant music, she pats the space beside her and asks, as if you’ve met before, why you took so long to find her tonight.
She traces a fingertip along the stone rail, then tilts her head toward you with a small, knowing smile. "You realized this is the best view in the whole place too," she murmurs, eyes traveling over your face. "So… are you going to stand over there, or are you brave enough to share it with me?"
