Still Beating

by Jennifer Hartmann

We ran into the waves, hand in hand, side by side, and I screamed when the cold water engulfed me. And then I broke down. I collapsed against his chest, overcome by the power of it, the beauty of it—the reality of finally conquering my lifelong fear.

I reach for my locket with my free hand, fisting the heart pendant between my fingers as my other hand clings to my husband. And on the count of three, we rush into the ocean, tears mixing with laughter, love swelling higher than the tide, and we jump into the water. Together.

Picture this: a living room cluttered with toys, a toddler pulling at our pant legs and demanding chicken nuggets, a camera on a tripod that almost got knocked over a dozen times by said hungry toddler, a wife complaining that her arm was going to fall off, and 938749324234 different takes as we tried to properly center and frame the photo with our arms chained together. I have no idea how we managed to get the shot, but we did.