Alice strolled along the beach, hand-in-hand with Clayton. The crystal waters of Bora Bora stretched endlessly before them, merging with the horizon in a seamless blend of blues. Pure white sand crunched softly beneath their bare feet, each step marking a moment in their newlywed bliss. It was paradise, but more than that—it was the beginning of their forever.

"I know you're scared of water, but should we swim? Don't worry, I'll hold you tight," Clayton whispered as they settled down on the lounge chairs. His voice held that gentle understanding she'd fallen in love with, the same tone that had helped her in the last year alone. Alice gazed at the lagoon, its surface sparkling like scattered diamonds under the midday sun.

Alice hesitated, reaching into her tote and pulling out her book, fingers skimming the familiar creases in the worn cover. A safe retreat. 

"I might just read," she said, her voice barely above a breath. 

"Allie." Clayton's plea was quiet but insistent, and when he stripped off his linen cream shirt, she paused, just for a moment. The faint scars on his torso, followed by new, purple and blue patches  — they were caught the sunlight like whispers of resilience, still healing. She admired them, admired him, the strength woven into his skin and the softness that lived in his touch. 

Alice inhaled deeply, pressing her toes into the warm sand, grounding herself. 

"Okay." She exhaled, nodding. "We can try. Toes first."

Alice followed Clayton to the water's edge, the gentle waves lapping at the shore in a rhythmic invitation. The cool foam kissed her toes, sending a shiver up her spine—not from the temperature, but from the sheer uncertainty of it all. 

Clayton turned to her, his damp curls sticking to his forehead, his grin patient and unwavering. 

"You're doing great," he murmured, squeezing her hand, his wedding band glistening. 

Alice swallowed, eyeing the lagoon. The vastness of it still unnerved her—the way the sunlight played tricks on its depths, concealing whatever lay beneath. But Clayton was here, his presence solid and steady. She could do this. 

She took another step, ankle-deep now, the water swirling around her skin. Clayton moved beside her, letting her take her time. 

"See?" he said gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Just the toes, just the ankles." 

Alice exhaled a nervous laugh, shaking her head. 

"Fine. Maybe knees next." 

Clayton's grin widened, and with a playful tug, he pulled her forward. She gasped, instinctively gripping his arms, her pulse quickening as the water climbed higher. 

For a moment, she tensed—but then she looked at him. His gaze was unwavering, the same quiet strength she had leaned on for so long. She kissed him, as he held her.

Suddenly, it didn't seem so terrifying. 

Alice let go of her breath, the tension easing from her shoulders. 

"Alright," she whispered, stepping deeper. "Hold me tight." 

Clayton wrapped his arms around her tighter, warmth against the cool embrace of the sea. 

And in that moment, surrounded by the endless blue, she realized something—maybe forever wasn't just a place or a promise. 

Maybe it was this.

One month later....

"I'm pregnant Clayton," Alice whispered, sitting on the bed. He froze, lowering himself next to her.

"Are you sure?" He said, shock still filling his voice.

Alice pulled out a pregnancy test from her pocket. It had been burning a hole inside there for over 30 minutes. Two pink lines.

"I'm pretty positive."

"It was definitely that one night on our honeymoon. Or even our wedding night actually."

"Yes. I'm not that drunk. I'll be careful. Don't worry," Alice smirked, impersonating her husband. Her impression of his drunken Texan tone made him break into a wide grin. He grabbed her hands, pregnancy test and all, pulling her closer.

"We're having a baby?" His voice cracked with joy, eyes bright with wonder.

Alice nodded, tears welling up as her smile matched his. "We're having a baby."

Clayton wrapped his arms around her, lifting her slightly off the bed in his excitement. "I can't believe it happened so fast! We're going to be parents!" He pressed his forehead against hers, then suddenly pulled back. "Oh god, should I not have squeezed you like that? Are you okay?"

Alice laughed, wiping happy tears from her cheeks. "I'm not made of glass, Clayton. The baby's the size of a poppy seed right now."

"A poppy seed?" He placed his large hand reverently on her still-flat stomach. "Our little poppy seed." His voice was thick with emotion.

"Already looking up baby sizes, are we?" She covered his hand with hers.

"Maybe," he admitted sheepishly. "I might have downloaded an app. You know, just in case."

"With the news, come. I have a surprise," Clayton said, pulling her to her feet.

"A surprise? You've had what, two minutes to plan this?" Alice laughed, still clutching the pregnancy test as he guided her down the stairs, towards the front door.

"Just get in the truck," he grinned, barely containing his excitement. "And no, I haven't had two minutes to plan this. Dad finally made it official yesterday."

Fifteen minutes later, they turned off the main gravel road onto unfamiliar gravel section of the Miller farm, Clayton veered left toward an old farmhouse, one of three Alice thought —this one his great-aunt Pauline had lived in until she died in the two thousands. It had sat empty since then, caught in a quiet tug-of-war between family members.

"Your dad decided?" Alice's voice was careful. She knew how tense things had been, with Josephine wanting to sell and Clayton's father torn between his sister's demands and his son's dreams of raising his own family on the farm.

"He signed it over this morning." Clayton's smile could have lit up the whole county. "Said he always knew it should stay in the family." He parked in front of the house, the late afternoon sun warming the faded white siding. "It needs work—a lot of work—but..." He turned to her, eyes bright with possibility. "That big room upstairs where Pauline used to paint? I always thought it would make the perfect nursery. All that light..."

Alice could see he was thinking a mile a minute. Clayton stared at the house, tears welling in his eyes. "Come. The builders already here." He tugged her out of the truck, holding her hand tight.

A blue pickup truck with "Greene & Sons Construction" sat in front of the house. The screen door creaked open as Quinn Greene, a distant cousin, himself stepped out, wiping his hands on his faded jeans.

"Got those samples you wanted to see, Clay—" He stopped, noticing their expressions, the way Clayton's hand hadn't left Alice's. A knowing smile spread across his weathered face. "Should I come back later?"

"No, perfect timing actually." Clayton's voice was thick with emotion. "We're, uh—" he looked at Alice, seeking permission.

"We're going to need that nursery sooner than we thought," Alice finished, squeezing Clayton's hand.

Quinn's face split into a broad grin. "Well now, that changes things! Come on in, you two. I've got some ideas for that upstairs bathroom we were debating. Might want to think about making it a bit bigger now, considering." He held the door open, gesturing them inside. "And Clay? Your aunt's old clawfoot tub? We managed to save it. Been thinking it'd look mighty fine refinished."

"This is the original Miller farmhouse," Quinn began, as he breezed through the history. "Built in 1772 by Levi Miller. No one's lived here since the two thousands as you may know. It's just over seven thousand square feet, sitting on fifteen acres. The main house includes seven bedrooms, five and a half baths, an office, two formal living areas, a gym, and a finished basement. The guest house out back offers another five bedrooms and two baths. The land features a pool, twelve stall horse stables, and I believe there's still a tennis court out there somewhere."

Alice watched as Clayton's expression lit up with excitement, his hand warm and steady in hers. He was practically glowing as he turned to her.

"It's going to be our home, Allie," he said, his voice brimming with certainty. "If you want it."

"What?" she murmured, still staring up at the high ceilings, the wall of glass that framed the distant hills. For a moment, it felt as though the house were too big for her, its weight pressing against her chest. The pregnancy test seemed to burn in her pocket, making this moment almost too much to process.

"It's ours," Clayton said softly, his smile breaking through her haze. His thumb traced circles on her palm as he spoke. "I want a family home. Now that you're pregnant, we can have one. It does need some updates since Aunt Pauline, though." His free hand gestured excitedly as he spoke. "I want to make it more economical, improve the equestrian facilities, add better lighting... And I'll have a proper kitchen installed for you."

"You're ambitious," Quinn joked, arching a brow at the growing list of renovations.

"What if we sell my mom's place?" Alice asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. She pressed her head into Clayton's shoulder, seeking his steadiness. The faint scent of peppermint lingered around him—comforting, grounding. "And use my newly inherited income."

Clayton stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening before he kissed her hand. "Why would we do that?"

"We can't afford the renovations... can we?" she asked, the words trailing off as she glanced up at him, unsure. The morning sickness she'd been fighting all day suddenly felt more pronounced.

He smiled down at her, his confidence unwavering. "I think we can manage, baby. Trust me."

Alice opened her mouth to protest, but he placed his hand over her still-flat stomach. "It's ok," he whispered, just for her, as if Quinn wasn't even there.

"I can give you two a moment," Quinn offered, stepping toward the foyer.

"This is my ancestral home," Clayton said once they were alone, his voice soft with memory. "I used to spend summers here with Aunt Pauline. That window seat?" He nodded toward the bay window. "She'd read me stories there every afternoon. And that kitchen? It's where I learned to make pancakes. Burnt every single one." He turned to face her fully. "I know it's a lot. The house, the baby, everything happening at once. But I want to give our children the same memories I had here. Better ones, even."

Alice looked up at him, seeing the little boy he must have been, burning pancakes in his aunt's kitchen. "You really want this, don't you?"

"More than anything," he whispered, pulling her closer. "But only if you do too."

"Okay," she whispered, then stronger: "Okay. Let's do it."

Clayton's face broke into that brilliant smile she'd fallen in love with. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She leaned into him. "But I get to pick the kitchen colors. We'll sell my mom's house. Non negotiable. It's a fresh start. Now, please, can we tell your parents now."

"Okay." He kissed her temple, "Now. Ready to make your mother-in-law cry?"

"Happy tears," Alice smiled. "The best kind."

They were finally home.