Page 89 of Make Out With A Merman

I pull a folded piece of paper from my back pocket and hand it to her.

It’s a sketch.

Crude, hand-drawn. I’m not an artist. But the idea’s there.

A platform. Modular. Anchored just past the swim zone. Solar-rigged. Weatherproof. Fully charm-compatible.

Her brow furrows. “Is this… a floating workshop?”

I nod. “For you.”

Her mouth falls open slightly.

“I’ve got the materials,” I say. “Some of the old deck boards are still good. And I can enchant the stabilizers myself. I figured if you’re staying”

“Iam,” she says fast. Then blushes. “I mean… yeah. I’ve been thinking about it.”

I let that sink in.

She looks at the sketch again, then at me.

“You want to build thisforme?”

“No,” I say. “Withyou.”

She stares a beat longer.

Then launches herself at me, arms around my neck, laughter in my ear.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says.

“You’re the one who keeps showing up in my plans,” I mutter.

She pulls back just enough to kiss me, hard and sweet.

Then grins. “So… we’re staying, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say, heart thudding.

“We’rebuilding.”

And somehow, that word feels more sacred than any vow I’ve ever made.

Later that night, we sit on the cabin steps, side by side.

The camp is quiet.

Kids tucked in.

Lake asleep.

Stars so thick it looks like the sky’s been dusted with powdered sugar.

Callie leans into my shoulder, barefoot, her hair damp from the lake.

She’s humming under her breath.

I clear my throat.

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