Page 63 of The Lighthouse Keeper and the Mermaid
“Does that mean you didn’t miss me as much?” she asked.
“No, I missed you more.”
She laughed. Even in the melancholy, with him, it felt so free.
She pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. He looked unfamiliar like that, and she wondered how much of him she still had left to see, how much more time would reveal to her little by little like shells on the shore.
Would they have enough time for that though? Her silly heart cried no, and she sighed before holding him close again. “I really missed you.”
Why did it feel like she was saying it for the future? Maybe Kallias had been right before. Maybe she should buy a boat and leave, leave and just go so far that no one could ever find them, so far that no one could even know where to look. Maybe the two of them—
“Daria.” Kallias brought her back from the depths of her thoughts. “Shall we go to our spot?”
“We shall,” she murmured, hating having to let him go, even if it was only to adjust so he could swim.
But the swim was short, and they pulled up to their spot, andstanding, she got off. It was different than before. Now flowers lay scattered on the sand, and mixed between them were pink shells and swirly ones, outlining their little spot like the waves on the shore. “It’s beautiful,” she gasped.
He looked sheepish though. “It took longer to hang the flowers last time or I would have done it again. I prepared this while you were doing the lighthouse, so I didn’t know how much time I’d have and well…”
“It’s perfect,” she assured, which quieted him and he gave a small smile. She sat down on the ground beside him.
“Actually,” he said, “there was something I have been working on all day. I was worried…I thought you might ask me to leave, and I wanted to give you something to remember me.”
She firmly placed her hand on his. “One, I will never forget you. Not until my dying breath. And two, hopefully that’s because you’ll always be beside me. Forever. Until death do us part.” He said nothing for a second so she continued, “Even if we ever have to separate, it cannot be for long. I could not handle losing you for long.”
“Really?” There was so much pain in his voice.
“Really.”
There was a pause again as he seemed to think and then he murmured, “Because I never wish to be apart from you either. Never. Until death do us part.”
Maybe they really should leave. And when she looked at him, into those beautiful eyes so full of sadness, maybe she would even be willing to. For him, she could give up the lighthouse.
“Marry me,” she said. “Right here, under the stars. Marry me, and be my partner forever.”
“Yes,” he breathed without thought, but then his brow began to scrunch. “Wait. Are you sure?” he stammered. “I’ll never be able to give you a normal life. I’ll—”
She silenced him with a kiss. “I don’t want a normal life. I want you.” She said those last three words firmly, in hopes they would truly sink in. What was a normal life anyway, or the lighthouse, if she couldn’t be with the one she loved?
“Do you not want to marry me?” she asked.
“I want to marry you more than anything,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with incredible alacrity and intensity. “More than anything, Daria. I’d die to marry you.”
“Don’t do that,” she laughed. “Just marry me.”
“Is it really okay just here under the stars? Isthere not some kind of ceremony?”
“Normally, there is. You go in a church before a priest, but it doesn’t have to be that way for us. We’ll pledge to love and treasure the other for all eternity before God and the moon and the stars. They’re the only ones that really matter besides us, right?”
“If you’re okay with that. I don’t want to steal your wedding day. I want it to be everything you’ve ever dreamed.”
“I’ve never dreamed of it,” she murmured honestly. “Not until I met you.”
He looked so touched she wanted to kiss him again, but instead she said, “Traditionally, husbands and wives give each other rings to symbolize their commitment, but if you made something for me, well, I actually made something for you too.”
“Really?” he said, a shy smile starting to displace the melancholy. “Then let’s give both at once,” he said, reaching for whatever it was from behind a nearby rock.
And perhaps their souls really were connected for he pulled out a necklace of sea glass bound by what looked to be rope from a fishing net. And just like how hers matched the colors of his tail and hair, his was made with glass that matched her, of the colors of her hair and eyes—reddish browns and vibrant greens.
