Almara’s Pov
We’re about to dock at Azaela National Park. It’s noon, the sun is shining bright, giving Arthur a warm glow to his skin. We stand at the front of the boat with Arthur’s arm looped around my waist and Grace seated on my hip. I can’t believe how big she’s gotten over the last few months.
We stand united soaking in the ethereal beauty of nature. The air is crisp and cool, and the only thing taller than the trees that line the permitter of the water are the mountains in the distance.
The beauty would be less shocking, if Arthur and I didn’t spend so much time in our cabin- though I’m not complaining. Maybe Grace will have a sibling soon.
“Have you ever gone camping?” Arthur asks.
I think back to the one time I did with my parents. We stayed close to our house, my parents
