The sunlight wakes me, the salty, sandy heat embracing me so warmly, I have no choice but to open my eyes. A sparkling world welcomes me. The crashing of waves, the cackle of seagulls lull me into a state of peace I wish I'd always known. But above all, the sound I enjoy the most, the one that brings me the most comfort is this woman's voice, her laughter, her coos, her hums, and late at night, when we're alone in our bedroom, her breathy moans and the way she still calls me Daddy.

I remember the night she agreed to it without me even really having to ask. It was Eren's eighteenth birthday, the bungalow had been bombed by our enemies in the middle of a party and I had had to pick up a gun. Two people had died at my hands that night, drenching me in their blood. She had washed it all off me, taken care of me, warmed my cock, called me by my preferred name in bed.

"Papa, you up?" A small hand, sticky from marmalade, shakes my knee. I raise my neck to look at our firstborn, Matthew, named after Dr. Matias Castillo. Ten years old, hair like mine, eyes like mine, and Angel's smile. Top of his class like his mother, sporty like his papa. The responsible eldest.

"Yes, Matty, I'm awake. You need something?" I sit up on the beach chair and take my son's hand to wipe it with a tissue.

"Mama wants you to come, join us now. Norah keeps going into the waters and Mama's feet are too sore to run after her."

"Of course." I smile, looking up. The beach is mostly devoid of people, as it has always been. But now there are three little blonde human beings waddling around in the sand, and there's my wife, radiant in the sun, her dress flowing in the wind, oversized but failing to hide her generous thirty-week bump. "Let's go to Mama's rescue, shall we?"

"Papaaaa!" Norah, second in line, rebellious, free-spirited because she was raised in Hange's presence, runs full speed toward me, pulling her younger siblings with her. Elijah and Eleanor, the twins, can barely keep up, their wobbly four-year-old feet tripping and balancing, while their sister refuses to let them slow down. "Papa! Papa! Papa! We want ice-cream. And Mama wants ice-cream too. She sent us to tell you she wants mango."

"Norah, do you know what happens to people who lie?" Matthew's tone is condescending. Like a certain Uncle Levi he so adores.

"Shut up. I'll set your pants on fire. Then we'll see what happens."

"Alright, kids!" I try to dismiss them but honestly, Angel is so much better at this. Her one glance can calm down Norah, one raise of an eyebrow will put a stop to Matty's passive aggression. "No fighting. You'll make Elijah cry, and then Eleanor will cry and you know how cranky that makes Mama. Mama shouldn't have to be cranky on holiday, right?"

The kids put their fighting to rest and crowd around the ice bucket I had stowed under my chair. "Now promise me you'll be calm when I open this up. You'll tell me what you want and I'll pick it out for you, okay? No sticking your hands in the ice. Promise?" All my kids nod their heads. Well, except Norah. "Norah, promise?"

"I promise, Papa," she whispers and then proceeds to be the first one to break the rule.

"You're setting a bad example for the little ones," Matty rebukes her.

"Shut up." Looks like she's found her new favorite thing to say.

I look into the bucket again. There's a few more packs of ice cream, most of them mango because that's what my wife and children like.

No alcohol in sight. I do still drink but occasionally, at parties, a can of beer or two. I quit smoking at home when Angel got pregnant with Matty, and then altogether when we found out about Norah's asthma. And the life I had before, the life of guns and wounds and turf wars, drugs and enemies, it is indeed a life of the before now. Angel made me swear off it, refusing to marry me and raise our children with me until I leave the business behind.

I still have Paradis and the bungalow, but when I had to choose between a life I had to live out of desperation and the woman I've desired all my life, there was no second thought invested in the decision. The answer was clearer than day. It's her. It'll always be her. I'll choose her over anything else, any day. I'll choose her over me.

Extracting two packs of ice lollies, I leave my children under the umbrella's shade to gather my wife. It must have been only an hour that I was asleep but I can't wait for her to fill my arms again. My beautiful wife. The light in my darkness. She's my Moon and I'm her waves, as she tides me to her will.

"Baby," she calls out to me, waving her arms. She's impatient for her treat, I can tell. Her pregnancies have been mostly smooth, except for her insatiable hunger each time, both for ice cream and for me. Basically, something to suck on.

"Almost there, my love," I say as I walk, blowing granules of sand with every step I take toward her.

Almost there. But never quite.

"Baby, come quick," Angel keeps calling, waving her arms but this path between where I am and where she waits for me, just does not end. I look behind me to see my children in the distance.

How huge is this beach?

"Baby?" She calls out again, fearful this time. "Erwin? Erwin, quick, the wave."

My eyes snap up and the packs of ice cream escape my grip. A wave the size of a sea monster chases the love of my life as she runs to me. I know her feet are tired, her back sore from carrying our fifth in her womb. If I could just reach her, I'd scoop her up in my arms, fight whatever it is that's plotting to snatch her from me, to part us.

This life would mean nothing without her in it. I'd be hopeless, anchorless, lost. What was the point of keeping up a physique and stamina if I can't run to her when she needs me?

"Erwin!"

Oh dear God, if you're real, give me the strength to protect her.

"Erwin!"

The wave engulfs her but not before I've reached within diving distance of the water. I hold my breath and plunge in. I miss her hand by a fraction of an inch. When I foolishly try calling out to her, the water burns my lungs. But I must, I must swim on.

I can't lose her.

Please, please don't take her from me.

"Erwin!"

A sharp slap wakes me, this time inside the bungalow, and in a ten year younger body. There's no sand, no giant wave, no ice cream, no yellow-haired children, and most importantly, no wife. Only Levi, standing beside the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. If I ever lose the ability to recognize faces, I'd be able to tell he's him just by judging his arm placement.

"How much longer are you planning to sleep? It's noon already." He throws a pair of pants in my direction before starting to take a turn about the room. "And you hogged all the water last night. There's a house full of guests and nothing coming out of the taps. Do you have any idea how inconvenient that is? The kids are distracting them with waffles they're making at Historia's place and bringing over in their cars."

Swatting away the white blanket, I climb off the bed to put on some clothes. The room's in a state of disarray. I watch as Levi fixes the closet where I found Angel after all that went down last night. "Is Angel helping out downstairs?"

"Who?" Levi grunts, hastily piling everything inside once the shelf is screwed back in.

"Niji. Is she downstairs?"

"How am I supposed to know where she is? I didnt see her with the guests or the kids and the door was ajar when I came."

"Maybe she's on the beach," I mumble to myself even though I know how unlikely it is that she'll go to the beach by herself.

"Maybe." Levi still hears me. "I've sent Petra, Oluo and the rest to clean up. If they find her, they'll bring her back to the house. Umm... did you send some clothes from here to the laundry?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Did you return her phone last night?" I find mine on the bedside table and fire it up.

"I left it here. Where's your blue linen shirt and white trousers?"

"It doesn't matter, Levi. I'll just buy a new shirt." I dial Angel's number before putting the phone to my ear. It rings several times before the lady declares failure to connect. I dial it again. And then another time. Only on my fourth attempt, the call doesn't ring for the full length but gets disconnected from the other end.

The lump in my throat hardens. "She was supposed to be in your charge, Levi. How do you not know where she is?" I'm looking for someone to blame if I actually lose her.

I hear the sound of a drawer being shut with some gusto before he turns to me, something shiny in his hand. "That was last night, Erwin. I was not appointed as her full-time bodyguard. Is this the jewelry you gave her?" He holds up the clover leaf pendant and earrings from Bvlgari and I nod.

Frustration sears through my blood. I'm absolutely certain she's not at the bungalow, nor on the beach. I can't let the dream come true. Not this one. "Find her. You have two hours."

What must I do?

Where might she be?

What if someone from Zeke's family came in and took her?

Would they really be so naive as to step foot in my room and take my angel away from me? Don't they know who I am? I'll hunt them down, then their families, and I'll make them witness the darkness of hell they might not have known before.

Her dress is on the bathroom floor. There's a brushing of red sediment running to the sinkhole, the blood of my enemies. There will be more if they've taken her from me.

I turn the tap to the side but no water comes out. Fuck this! If I lose her after last night, what was the point? What was the fucking point? I was content with knowing her from afar for the last twenty years, hearing about her from her grandfather the stories he was so proud of - how she cared for her barbie dolls, her first day at school, her award ceremonies, the green dress for her quinceañera, the pink dress for her prom, rhe black dress for her graduation, her first drink on her twenty-first birthday, her first casual boyfriend who then turned into her fiancé and then broke her heart into a million pieces.

I still remember the loaded gun I had Levi send to his workplace with a neon yellow sticky note that said, in all caps, "KILL YOURSELF." Levi was so confused and it was such a juvenile thing to do but the right thing nonetheless.

I despised it, every moment of it. I wanted to meet her, wanted to break my promise to Dr. Castillo and turn up at her college or the apartment she shared with Ms. Trent. I had planned it - accidentally bumping into her at her favorite coffee shop outside and striking up a conversation over our shared preference for caffeine. I'd have asked her out on a date, listened to her talk about her life, her cat, her dreams, what she does to ground herself when she's anxious, what are the little things that make her happy almost instantaneously.

It would have eventually been revealed to her the truth of our encounter but not before I'd had her fallen in love with me. How manipulative of me!

All that planning and here I am, still without her by my side. For a control freak, and more importantly, an atheist, I did leave it up to fate.

Was it fate, and not Eren, that pulled the trigger that night? Was it fate, and not Hange, that drove me to Dr. Castillo's place? Was it fate, and not my own two feet, that staggered up the front porch stairs, found the key under that one flower pot I've always known he hid it under, entered the house and bled onto the bathroom floor until she found me?

Perhaps it was fate that made Dr. Matias will his flat to Niji. Maybe he didn't think I'd show up again, not after our last conversation.

"I can't track her phone." Levi walks in, announcing.

"That's not going to work." I kick the hem of her dress but regret it immediately. Squatting, I pick the gown up and fail at my attempt to fold it before Levi seizes it from me.

"I'll ask around downstairs," he talks as he folds. "If anybody has seen her leave, we might get a lead about where she was heading."

"If they've taken her from me..."

"Then they won't live to see another day, I know." He leaves.

Please, if there's a higher power, if there's someone who can hear me, if it is indeed fate that led her to me, don't let my nightmare come true. I'll leave this life behind, sell any ounce of my soul still left in my control to the devil, or to God, whoever wants it. Anything, anything to have her by my side.

A drop of something lands on my clad chest. I wipe it up on my finger to inspect it closely. Sweat, is it? My vision is blurry, nose running.

I look to the mirror over the sink.

Oh! This is new.