Evening fell over the shore. Glints of sunlight, struggling to stay above the horizon, cut through diffuse clouds as Naomi and Peter sat, sharing a blanket on the sand. A chill off the ocean was drifting over them, causing the pair to draw closer together.

Like a sixties beach movie their first anniversary day started out with a drive to the beach. Peter had made a playlist a few days before with Beach Boys and other old music and Naomi sang along, almost in tune, sometimes, with her hair whipping in the wind from wide-open windows.

Towels and old swimsuits and a giant basket filled with food and drinks, enough for the whole day, came down from the car park with them. They ate and drank and kissed and danced to the music they’d brought, living a life in their imaginations that others might have lived years before, in just the same spot, alone on a romantic, secluded beach, in a bliss of the carefree style they’d vowed on the day they were married, they would always keep.

When the dark came, stars shimmered little by little out of the black sky. Naomi pointed out dots of light to Peter, telling him what they were and how far away.

Even under a vast sky, massing with stars, they didn’t feel small or insignificant. They felt the delicious way people feel when they see beauty all around them and know that the one right there, right beside them, that person and nobody else, loves them more than all of those stars.