That night, the night I gave up everything to be with Skye, was the best night of my life. I relinquished my crown, left my fancy clothes behind, and met the love of my life with the setting sun as a backdrop to our embrace.
“Do you want to go to the ball?” Skye inquired.
“What a silly question! I’d rather be with you than in a stuffy ballroom with the stuffy ladies Father wants me to marry.”
“I didn’t mean the ball at the palace,” Skye explained. “Look around us. The ocean is a ballroom. The wind is playing music. Everyone’s watching, waiting for us to dance.”
I’d never danced with Skye before. I’d never danced barefoot on the sand before, with the waves lapping at my feet and the seagulls soaring over my head. It was then that I knew our wedding would be on the water.
When Skye held our little daughter’s tiny hands, waltzing her across the infinite ballroom of the shoreline, I fell more deeply in love with her than ever before. And I realized, like the ocean ballroom, she was both free and wild, and delicate and refined. Like the ocean, she could sweep me off my feet and put salty tears in my eyes. Like the waves, she washed kindness over me and brought me to the shore of understanding. Like the horizon, where the sky kisses the sea, our love would never end.