Back in Brazil…
The late-afternoon sun hung low over the Brazilian coast, turning the water into a shifting sheet of gold and deep turquoise as Don floated on his back a short distance from the shore in a rented swim short.
The salt-warm current rocked him gently, the muted roar of distant waves folding into the quieter splash of Summer swimming nearby in slow strokes.
Sylvia had claimed a spot closer to him after they first entered the water, her dark hair slicked back and gleaming, the faint sheen of seawater tracing the elegant lines of her shoulders and collarbones.
For nearly an hour they had remained in this easy orbit—Summer occasionally diving under and resurfacing with a soft laugh, Sylvia content to drift and talk in low tones about nothing in particular, while Don simply let the ocean take some of the residual weight from the previous days.
