It was the kind of June morning that makes you forget your to-do list — golden light, low tide, and a sea breeze that smelled faintly of salt and possibility. Elise was out on the water by 7am, as she always was on weekends. Jack had arrived with a film crew to document the tern nesting grounds near Narragansett Point.

He paddled over to ask her about the tides. She corrected his stroke. They argued about ocean currents for twenty minutes, then paddled together for three hours. By the time they pulled the boards up on shore, they had shared a thermos of coffee, discovered a mutual obsession with old maps, and made plans for dinner that Friday.

Two years, one cross-country road trip, a rescue dog named Buoy, and one proposal on this exact stretch of coastline later — here we are.