Chapter 16 – Honeymoon Horizons
They chose the Amalfi Coast.
Not because it was trending or extravagant, but because it felt like something out of a dream—quaint hillside villages, lemon trees, ocean views, and cobblestone streets that seemed to whisper stories of old lovers.
They arrived jetlagged and giddy, still glowing from the wedding. Marcus carried her bags like a man on a mission, while Elena leaned over balconies, taking in every view like it was the last.
Their hotel room overlooked the sea. At sunset, the sky melted into warm shades of rose and gold, and for a while, they sat on the balcony in silence, fingers entwined, watching the world soften.
"This feels unreal," Elena said softly.
"It is," Marcus replied. "But somehow, we're in it."
The days were a blur of joy: wandering narrow alleyways in Positano, losing track of time in cozy cafés, swimming in cold, clear waters. They tasted gelato from every corner, argued over which town had the best pasta, and danced one evening in the square while a street musician played a love song in Italian neither of them understood.
One afternoon, they hiked the Path of the Gods. Halfway up, Elena stopped, breathless—not just from the climb, but from the view.
Marcus stood beside her, hand on her back.
"I think I've figured out the secret," she said.
"To what?"
"To a good life."
He raised a brow. "Do tell."
"It's this. Movement. Beauty. A little chaos. And someone who never lets go of your hand."
He smiled. "Even uphill?"
"Especially uphill."
That night, they lay in bed, jetlag catching up to them. The sea breeze carried through the open window. Marcus turned to her.
"What do you think about kids?"
Elena blinked, surprised but not afraid. "One day. Maybe soon."
He nodded. "Just wondering what kind of sketchbooks I'll need for parenting."
She laughed. "Big ones."
They fell asleep with dreams of little feet on hardwood floors, crayon drawings on walls, and the quiet hum of family—a new kind of horizon.