Under Oakley Ponciano's second, gently insistent question, Natalie Pierce finally lifted her head. Before she could stop herself, the word slipped out:
"Okay."
Oakley's face lit up."Great. Then tomorrow around five in the afternoon, we'll swing by here to pick you up and we'll all go over together."
Natalie nodded lightly, the sheet mask still pinched between her fingers.
Her mind felt fogged, as if she'd taken a blow to the back of the head. She couldn't quite tell what she was doing, or why she'd just agreed to this. Her decision was clearly moving faster than her ability to think about it.
Oakley watched her leave. When the door closed again, she tipped her head to one side and let out a small sigh. Then she shook herself back to the present, grabbed her pajamas, and disappeared into the bathroom.
By eleven, both Grace Barron and Oakley had showered and washed up, and finally crawled into bed together.
The Airbnb was decorated in a fresh, airy style. The curtains were sheer white lace, the floor a warm walnut woodgrain. The bedding was a scatter of tiny florals, soft and country-style. The little bedside lamp was a retro piece straight out of a nineties TV show—round shade, squat base, the kind you'd expect to see next to a rotary phone.
Living in a place like this, it was hard not to feel content. Then again, maybe it was simply that the right person was here with you—that alone could turn any room into something gentle.
Grace slipped off the terrycloth headband she'd worn in the shower and tossed it aside. She slid under the covers, pulled the duvet up to her chest, and let out a small, satisfied sigh.
Oakley had just lifted the edge of the duvet and slipped into bed when she caught the sound. Smiling, she asked,"Tired?"
They really had packed the day full. They'd done a lot together, ticking off little plans one by one. It made sense, Oakley thought, that Grace would be a bit worn out by now.
Grace frowned faintly, as if checking in with her own body."Not really?" she said after a second. "When I'm with you, it's like I don't know how to feel tired anymore."
That was nothing but the truth.
Whenever she was with Oakley, time felt like it had strapped itself to a rocket and taken off. One blink and the day was gone.
That feeling was especially brutal the night before a workday. When she'd lived alone, the passing of time had barely registered. A day went, then another. If she lost today, tomorrow was waiting. If the weekend was over, there was always another one down the line. It all blurred together—no urgency, no sting.
But after Oakley came into her life, she only wanted to be a cowboy roping wild mustangs—except what she wanted to catch and hold back was time itself, keep it from galloping too fast.
"Then why the sigh?" Oakley rolled onto her side to face her, propping her cheek on the fluff of the pillow. "You sounded tragic for a second."
Grace tore her gaze away from the ceiling and looked over at her."I wasn't sighing because I'm tired," she said with a small smile. "That was a satisfied sigh."
"A satisfied sigh?" Oakley's lips curled, mischief bright in her eyes. She decided to play dumb. "What are you so satisfied about, then? Something big happen? Elaborate, please. In detail."
Grace's eyes narrowed in amusement."You know."
"I know?" Oakley's smile turned sweeter, a hint of pride slipping into it. "How would I know? I know nothing. I demand you spell it out for me."
There was no winning with this woman.
Grace couldn't help laughing.
She swiped her tongue across her lower lip, then looked at Oakley very seriously."Because I'm with you," she said. "That's it. That alone makes me feel completely… full."
It was strange, when she thought about it. She'd always believed she wasn't very good at saying what she felt. But with Oakley, it was as if some switch had been flipped—her ability to put feelings into words had leveled up overnight.
Maybe that was what love did. It stripped away your caution, your second-guessing, until you just wanted the other person to know, clearly and completely, that they were loved.
Oakley's face bloomed like a flower. She flicked the duvet up a little, scooted closer, and pressed herself against Grace's side.
"I'm full too," she said, voice thick with quiet happiness.
Deep inside, she felt as if every hollow space had been filled.
She'd been a rich girl before, at least on paper—money, status, a comfortable life. But only now did she feel like she'd become rich in the way that really mattered. The kind no bank could measure.
She was more and more convinced that the best thing she'd done this year was posting that thread on that forum. And then—just as important—not letting her preconceived notions about Grace scare her off.
If she'd been more stubborn, more determined to see only the worst in people… if she'd clung to her doubt like a shield… she really might have missed her.
"You're not allowed to dump me one day and go make someone else feel 'full,'" Oakley mumbled, rubbing her cheek lazily against the curve of Grace's neck.
"Why would I dump you?" Grace shot back without even thinking. "I'd have to be out of my mind."
"Oh." Oakley gave a small, satisfied murmur.
They both fell quiet then. The room took on an easy, peaceful stillness.
A moment later, Oakley suddenly added, in all seriousness,"Then remember not to eat too much."
Grace lost it. She shook with laughter under the covers, the duvet trembling like a leaf in the wind. What did "eat less" have to do with not leaving her?
Of course it was Oakley. Only she could come up with a line of reasoning that ridiculous and still make it sound completely logical in her own head.
"Don't laugh," Oakley said, affronted. "I'm being serious."
She burrowed even closer, rubbing her face against Grace again, impossibly affectionate.
"Okay, I'm not laughing," Grace said, even though her voice was still shaking with amusement. She rolled onto her side as well and wrapped both arms tightly around Oakley. "Now go to sleep."
"Mm…" Oakley snuggled into her chest, mumbling, "I don't really want to. I don't want to waste even a second. I want to stay up and talk to you forever."
She wanted to split every minute she had into halves, then into quarters, then into smaller and smaller fragments just to fit more in. If only each day could be stretched out a little longer than the last.
With Grace, she always felt like she had too much to say. Most of it was nonsense, really—light, childish chatter with no particular depth.
But she still wanted to say it. Even if she repeated herself a thousand times, ten thousand times, it wouldn't feel like enough.
Grace's face went solemn."Do you or do you not want to live a hundred years with me?"
"…"
Oakley froze, then clamped her eyes shut tight."Right, I'm sleeping," she declared. "Don't sabotage my live-to-one-hundred plan."
Watching her, Grace once again burst out laughing.
Maybe this was what loving someone felt like—wanting, constantly, to reach out and ruffle their hair, just to feel the reality of them under your palm.
She stretched out her arm and flicked off the bedside lamp, then curled back around Oakley, closing her eyes at last.
At some point during the night, Grace's lips twitched upward and she pulled Oakley closer, her arms tightening unconsciously.
That night, she had a dream so outrageous it could've blown up anyone's worldview. In all the years she'd been alive, it was the most ridiculous dream she'd ever had.
In it, she and Oakley were exactly what she hoped they'd always be—together, calm and steady, day after day. Three meals, seafood feasts, easy arguments that never lasted long, and never, ever any of those messy, stupid reasons people usually used to break up. To most people, they'd become something of an example.
Whenever people talked about "soulmate couples," everyone automatically thought of them.
They grew old together that way, supporting each other as they walked. Their hair turned silver, their vision blurred, their hearing faded. They lost teeth until they had to soak their cookies in milk just to eat them, and most of their meals turned into soft, mushy porridge.
Approaching the end of their lives, their eyes blurred so badly that everything seemed double. They'd basically become the kind of humans evolution was supposed to have streamlined away.
It was then that two grim reapers appeared at their bedside—one draped in black, the other in white. They stood there, motionless, waiting to escort them out of the world.
Facing death, Grace and Oakley instinctively turned to look at each other. Their faces were a map of wrinkles, but their eyes were still filled with the same deep affection they'd had when they were young.
Exactly the same.
"Old lady," Oakley said, voice full of feeling, "you go first. Once you're done dying, I'll die too. That way you won't be lonely."
Grace shook her head immediately, coughing twice for effect."No way, old lady. You go first. I'm rougher than you; I can handle being lonely."
They went back and forth like this—you die first, I'll go after; no, you go first, I'll follow—until finally the reaper in black lost his temper.
"What are you two arguing about?!" he snapped. "You're both dying. Together. White, get them!"
By the time Grace reached this part of the dream, something inside her snapped. She started laughing. And once she started, she couldn't stop. It felt like her bones were going to rattle apart from the inside.
She laughed herself awake.
When her brain finally cleared and her heartbeat slowed, she realized just how absurd the whole thing had been. She honestly suspected she'd been infected by Oakley's brand of chaos.
Apparently her own imagination was nothing to sneeze at either. Maybe that saying was right: if you weren't born into the same family, you wouldn't end up under the same roof. In some ways, they were absolutely made of the same stuff.
Just thinking about it made her shudder.
After lying there a while, she turned her head to glance at the watch on the bedside table and saw that it was time to get up.
She slipped out from under the covers first and sat on the edge of the bed, stifling a small yawn.
The world outside was still asleep. It was so quiet that even the slightest rustle of wind sounded loud.
She slid her feet into her slippers and stood, taking a moment to look back at Oakley, who was still sleeping soundly, then padded into the bathroom to wash up.
She brushed her teeth and then looked up at her reflection in the mirror—and only then did she notice it.
Something about her face had changed. Maybe it was the way she'd been smiling more lately, but the sharpness around her eyes had softened. Her features looked gentler now, less guarded.
She really did look like someone who was… happy.
When she'd finished brushing her hair, Grace picked up Oakley's toothbrush, squeezed a neat ribbon of toothpaste onto it, and rested it carefully on the lip of the cup. Then she turned off the bathroom light and walked back to the bed.
She placed a hand on the mound of blankets and patted lightly."Oakley. Time to wake up."
Oakley surfaced from sleep in slow motion, eyes still heavy with dreams.
She yawned, soft and small."Already…?" she mumbled. "We really have to get up?"
Her mind supplied a stray thought: Humans should totally hibernate in winter.
"Yes," Grace said. "If we wait any longer, we're going to miss it."
The drive from here to their destination would take some time. Sunrises didn't wait for anyone.
"Okay," Oakley sighed.
She yawned again and spent another moment dozing in the warmth of the covers, then finally mustered all her willpower and forced her eyes open. They felt dry, a little grainy.
Once her vision adjusted to the light, she threw back the covers and reached a hand blindly toward Grace, one eye open and one eye closed.
"Pull me up," she said. "I'm a block of wood. I can't move on my own."
Under the overhead light, her skin gleamed porcelain-pale. Her collarbones lay in a clean line beneath the neckline of her top, and her rosy lips, paired with her sleepy eyes, made her look almost unreal.
Grace couldn't help smiling. She did exactly as instructed, wrapping her fingers around Oakley's and pulling. Oakley sat up in one swift motion—too swift.
For a second, she wobbled, unable to find her balance.
Grace startled and lunged forward, catching her around the waist before she could topple.
The woman in her arms was soft all over, as if every bone in her body had turned to something pliant. Holding her felt… incredible. Warm and yielding, like something you never wanted to put down.
Oakley hugged her back and wriggled closer."So comfortable," she said, rubbing her cheek against Grace's shoulder.
She loved holding Grace like this—loved it so much it made her chest ache a little. It felt like gathering the entire world into her arms. It made her want to stay like this forever, clinging to her, refusing to move.
"What do you smell like?" Oakley asked, breathing in deeply against her neck.
"Skincare products," Grace answered honestly.
Oakley laughed, soft and delighted."No, you don't."
"Then what do I smell like?" Grace asked.
"Like something that makes my whole heart burst into flowers," Oakley said, tightening her grip.
Grace let her cling, the corners of her mouth practically stuck in an upward curve. After a long moment, she gave Oakley's shoulder a gentle pat.
"All right, go brush your teeth," she said. "You're going to fall back asleep on me."
"Mm!" Oakley nodded hard, finally slipping out of bed. She stretched, arms arcing gracefully overhead, then shuffled into the bathroom.
By the time they were both dressed and ready to leave, it was five.
They climbed into the car. Grace waited until Oakley had fastened her seat belt, then pulled out onto the road, driving toward the sea.
Originally, they'd thought about climbing a mountain to watch the sunrise from the summit. But that meant getting up even earlier and putting their legs through far more than they deserved on a winter morning, so they'd scaled the plan down to the beach.
Besides, the sea had its own kind of beauty.
In winter, the nights lingered and the days were brief. At this hour, the sky was still dark. Trees and buildings melted together into a murky blue-black backdrop. Only the streetlights gave shape to things, tracing out faint outlines in the misty air.
The tires crackled over dead leaves. The voice on the GPS guided them along wide, empty streets. The cool morning air skimmed over the car's hood, and the scenery on either side slipped steadily backward. A hush lay over everything, spreading out like a soft blanket, soothing without you even noticing.
Oakley was fighting sleep the entire drive. Her head bobbed more than once as she drifted off.
Grace didn't disturb her. She let her sleep, watching the road while Oakley dozed peacefully in the passenger seat.
Only when they reached the parking lot by the beach did Grace gently call,"Oakley. We're here."
Oakley surfaced from her hazy dream, yawned, unbuckled her seat belt, and climbed out of the car with her.
The inkiness of the sky had already thinned. The horizon looked like a vast, endless pane of glass, clear and waiting.
The sea breeze was damp and cool, ruffling their hair and cutting through the last remnants of sleep. The salty tang in the air cleared Oakley's head, and the layered sound of waves folding and unfolding against the shore moved over them like white noise, calming and steady.
They weren't the only ones, either. A few other couples were scattered along the sand, wrapped up in each other, murmuring quietly as they waited.
Probably all brought here by the same online photos—they'd seen how beautiful it looked and decided to come see it for themselves. The place had clearly become something of a minor phenomenon.
It was funny, Oakley thought.
Before she'd ever fallen in love, she used to look at clingy couples and feel puzzled, almost irritated. What were they doing, exactly? What was the point of holding hands like their lives depended on it? Watching them for too long gave her a sugar headache.
The silly things couples did together made her roll her eyes straight to the ceiling. It all seemed so childish, so ridiculous.
And yet, the moment she fell in love herself, she discovered she was the reigning champion of the ridiculous. The undisputed queen of the idiots.
They stepped onto the damp, yielding sand. Grace linked arms with her, and they walked slowly along the shoreline.
Listening to the wind, Grace said quietly,"I've wanted to watch a sunrise like this since I was a teenager."
"Because you thought it would be pretty?" Oakley asked.
"Yes," Grace replied.
Part of it was all the TV dramas she'd watched growing up. There was always some scene where the leads went to watch the sunrise, and the camera would linger on the horizon, making it look impossibly beautiful. After seeing that enough times, she'd started longing for it herself.
But there was another reason, too.
Her mother had always wanted to see the sunrise over the sea. Properly, just once.
She never got the chance. That wish stayed a wish. She left the world before she could tick it off.
Grace fell quiet for a moment, then went on."I remember one time, I was walking past my dad and mom's room and heard them talking. They'd decided to put 'sunrise' on their New Year's schedule. I kept thinking about it for days. I was so excited. And then later I found out… that the plan was just for Hazel and them. I wasn't included."
Oakley's brows furrowed."How could they do that? Why wouldn't they take you?"
Grace gave a small, wry smile."Because the only reason they were going at all was Hazel. Hazel wanted to see it, so they made the plan. From the very beginning, I wasn't part of it."
She took a breath."And then right before they were supposed to leave, Hazel tripped. She insisted I'd pushed her. My parents wouldn't hear a word I said, just decided I was lying. And that was that. They left without me."
Not only did they leave her behind—they'd tossed one last sentence over their shoulders before they left the house:
You really don't deserve any of the good things we do for you.
Hearing this, Oakley's anger flared so hot it almost felt physical."That's awful. If they actually cared about you, how could they not even listen to your side of the story?"
Grace paused for a while, looking out toward the water.
"Exactly," she said softly. "So I guess the real problem was that they didn't care."
Another wave surged close and collapsed onto the shore, spreading silver foam across the sand before retreating again, smoothing everything back out as if nothing had happened.
Oakley suddenly wondered if she'd phrased things wrong just now. Her fingers tightened around Grace's.
"So for a long time, I kept wondering," Grace said. "I kept asking myself if maybe I just wasn't good enough. Not capable enough. Not independent enough. Maybe that's why they didn't need me. That's why they treated me so differently from her."
Because of that, she'd become the kind of person who did whatever the family asked of her, without protest. As long as she kept moving, kept doing, she'd get a few crumbs of praise.
But if she resisted even a little, if she pushed back, all she ever got in return was blame.
"Four years ago," Grace went on, "I finally went to see a sunrise. It really was beautiful. That night I slept better than I had in a long time."
"With who?" Oakley asked gently.
"Just me," Grace said. "I went on my own. Work was light at the time. I had a few days, so I just… went."
"Wasn't it a bit lonely? Being there alone?" Oakley asked.
Grace smiled faintly."At the time, I didn't really understand what 'lonely' meant."
Oakley glanced over at her, eyes searching her profile.
"I was used to it," Grace said simply. "When you're used to something, it stops feeling like anything. It stops counting as a problem."
Oakley squeezed her hand tighter."I'm not letting you get used to that ever again," she said.
Grace laughed softly and turned to look at her."Don't worry. I've already fallen out of the habit."
She'd acquired a new one instead—wanting to bring Oakley along for everything. No matter what it was. No matter where she was going.
She'd started looking forward to holidays, too, in a way she never had before. Planning them. Wanting to spend every single one with Oakley.
"Good," Oakley said firmly. "From now on, I'll come with you."
Grace looked at her for a long, quiet moment."Okay," she said at last.
Oakley turned her gaze back to the horizon—and gasped softly.
"There's some light," she said. "Look."
A pale streak had appeared along the edge of the sky, like the first brushstroke on a blank canvas. It spread slowly, the dark blue of the night dissolving into something softer and more translucent. The heaviness lifted; the world seemed to exhale.
Oakley's eyes sparkled."The sun's coming, isn't it?"
"Yes," Grace said, nodding.
They fell silent, holding their breath, staring out at the horizon as if they could pull the sun up faster just by wanting it.
Before long, the first beam of light broke through, slicing the morning mist and pouring down over the sea. The surface of the water caught it all at once, flaring up like golden fireworks.
As the sun slowly rose above the line of the sea, the fire spread, the water turning into a sheet of molten gold, rippling and glittering and alive.
Warmth and calm spread in every direction, filling the sky and the sea and the space between. It was magnificent. It was gentle. It made something deep inside your chest ache.
It felt like a scene from somewhere above the clouds, something the world was never really meant to see.
After taking several photos in a row, Oakley lowered her phone and went back to staring, dazed and moved.
"Grace Barron," she said softly.
"Mm?" Grace turned her head.
Oakley turned to face her completely, her expression suddenly serious."I'm a dragon," she announced. "You're my gold coin. I hereby declare that you've been officially hoarded. From now on and forever, you belong to me. Alive, you're my gold coin. Dead, you're my gold coin's soul."
"What on earth…" Grace laughed so hard she nearly doubled over, her whole body trembling by the water's edge.
"I mean," Oakley clarified, eyes wide and earnest, "that I'm very, very greedy. It takes a lot of treasure to satisfy me. So I need you. Which means from now on, you can only ever be my treasure. Mine alone."
She looked utterly solemn as she said it. Solemn enough that it felt like a vow.
Grace couldn't stop smiling. The sunrise painted her light-colored irises with a wash of soft orange, until her eyes looked as clear and bright as morning itself.