The ocean stretched out endlessly before them, blue lting into gold where the sun began to dip.
Celeste and Amara sat on the beach, their towels spread across the soft sand. The sea breeze tangled through their hair.
Both of them looked effortlessly stunning. Their beauty didn’t need effort. Celeste’s white bikini glead against her golden skin. Her toned body was softer now, and her movents slower, gentler.
Amara wore a deep bronze two-piece. Her curves caught the sunlight, her confidence as usual, was as easy as breathing.
They had coconut water bottles by their sides. It was their little escape. No Dominic, no Elias, and no plans or strategy. Just two won and the sound of waves. However, Rodger did stay close.
Amara glanced at Celeste for the hundredth ti. "You’re glowing," she said simply.
Celeste smiled, half shy. "You already said that."
"I’ll keep saying it. You look like you swallowed sunshine."
Celeste laughed, shaking her head. "That’s not possible."
"Apparently, it is," Amara teased. "You and your two little suns."
Celeste blinked. "Two?"
Amara grinned. "Twins, babe." She smiled at the sky. "I’m still not over that."
Celeste leaned back on her palms, her smile softening. "Neither am I."
Amara studied her quietly for a mont. The way Celeste’s hand occasionally drifted to her stomach without realizing. The way her expression would go distant — peaceful, yet full of disbelief.
"I can’t believe it," Amara said finally. "You’re going to be a mother."
Celeste looked at her, then out at the horizon. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It feels surreal."
"Do you rember when you said you’d never be good with kids?" Amara said, laughing softly. "You used to panic if a child so much as sneezed near you. Yet, you still wanted them. You were scared you would end up like your mother but that didn’t stop you from wanting one."
Celeste smiled at the mory. "I did. I didn’t think I could ever... fit into that role."
Amara leaned closer. "You will. You’re calm when it matters. You’re gentle when you love soone. That’s what makes a good mother, Celeste. Not knowing everything. Just... showing up with your whole heart matters."
Celeste’s throat tightened. "You really think I’ll be good at it?"
"I know you will." Amara’s tone left no room for doubt. "You’ve taken care of everyone around you, even when no one noticed. Now it’s ti you take care of sothing that’s yours."
Celeste exhaled slowly, her voice small. "When they told there were two heartbeats, I couldn’t even breathe. Dominic was holding my hand, and I just stared at the screen. I didn’t cry, I almost panicked. It just felt too much at that mont."
Amara smiled, her gaze soft. "And him?"
Celeste’s lips curved faintly. "He just... went quiet," she said, her voice soft, almost fond. "I was panicking, you know? I kept asking if he was sure the doctor was right."
She smiled, her gaze lost in the waves. "He took my hand and told to breathe. Said, ’Hey, look at . You’re okay.’" A tiny laugh escaped her. "Then he touched my stomach, so carefully,"
Amara’s laughter rang against the sound of waves. "That’s so him."
"He’s been ridiculously protective since then," Celeste said. "He won’t let walk on wet floors. He stands behind on stairs. He even offered to hire more chefs because he doesn’t trust near knives anymore."
Amara chuckled. "He sounds like a man who’s in love."
"He is," Celeste admitted softly. "And I’m terrified of what that ans."
Amara tilted her head. "Terrified?"
Celeste nodded, staring out at the water. "Because love makes everything fragile. It gives you sothing to lose. I’ve never felt this exposed before."
Amara didn’t interrupt. She just leaned back, and let the silence stretch a little. "That’s the thing about life," she said finally. "You spend years building walls, and then one heartbeat tears them down."
Celeste smiled at that. "You always know what to say to calm in every situation."
"I’m your best friend. It’s my job to be profound once in a while." Amara smirked, then nudged her lightly. "But seriously, Celeste, I’ve seen the way Dominic looks at you. The man would set himself on fire if it kept you warm. You’re safe with him."
Celeste looked down at her fingers, tracing the rim of her coconut bottle. "I want to believe that."
"Then do."
The sun dipped lower, painting their skin in honey light. Celeste pulled her hair up into a loose bun, and Amara helped tuck a few strands behind her ear. The gesture was small, intimate and the kind that only years of friendship made easy.
"I never thought we’d be here," Celeste murmured. "After everything we’ve been through."
"Yeah," Amara said quietly. "But here we are. Breathing. Healing. Living."
Celeste smiled faintly. "It’s strange... the way happiness sneaks up on you."
Amara reached for her hand again. "Don’t question it. Just hold it." She smiled wistfully. "I questioned mine."
Celeste stared at her softly.
They sat in silence again. Their fingers intertwined as the tide ca in slowly, washing over their toes.
A few ters away, two children ran across the sand, their laughter echoed against the surf. Celeste watched them for a long ti.
Amara followed her gaze. "You’re thinking about them, aren’t you?"
Celeste nodded. "Yeah."
Amara smiled knowingly. "You’re already a mother, Celeste. You just haven’t t them yet."
Celeste’s lips trembled slightly, her eyes glistening. She let out a shaky laugh. "You’re going to make cry."
"I’ll allow it," Amara teased. "Just not ugly crying. We still have to take pictures."
Celeste laughed, wiping her eyes. "You’re unbearably bossy most tis."
"I know." Amara grinned, leaning back and letting the sun kiss her skin. "But you love ."
Celeste smiled. "Always."
For a while, they didn’t talk. They just listened to the rhythm of the waves, and the heartbeat of the earth itself. The air slled like salt and sunscreen and freedom.
Celeste rested her head on Amara’s shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For reminding it’s okay to feel joy."
Amara smiled faintly. "Joy looks good on you, Cee."
Celeste closed her eyes. "It feels good too."
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