He stood at the edge of the tide as his husband kissed the selkie they’d saved, on that beach, on a cold, clear Friday evening. Nico Locke leaned into him. Their noses brushed, and their breath fogged the air. Ethan, he saw Nico say, lips stretched, tongue touching the back of his teeth. How strange to feel his heart rupture and rebel and restart. How comforting to brace for jealousy and find hope instead.
