Our Secret Summer(96)

I might have already been crying this whole time, but I notice it now as gravity tugs a string of tears down my cheek. Cristiano’s lips press against my navel, then lower. His hand bands around my arm, anchoring me in place—both on this blanket and with him, forever—and then his palm covers my tattoo. I feel the heat of his touch there, right over Winnie’s initial. I think of her now. I see her in the sunset and the cresting waves, the black bird near the horizon and the little baby growing inside me that might look just like her.

Look, Winnie. Do you see?

I’m in love on Ibiza.

All because of you.