Safe With You

Sun, Salt, and Sanity

~ Alyssa ~

If heaven had Wi-Fi and a minibar, it would look exactly like this.

The Portuguese sun is pouring golden light across the water park, the air thick with the smell of sunscreen and sea breeze.

Somewhere nearby, a speaker hums soft indie music, the kind that makes even chaos feel cinematic.

And me?

I’m doing absolutely nothing.

Melissa’s orders were very clear this morning:

>“Not a muscle, Alyssa. The only thing you’re allowed to lift is your drink.”

So here I am — stretched across a sun lounger in an oversized straw hat, a chilled drink sweating condensation onto my palm, and my toes painted coral to match the sky.

I should feel guilty.

I should be answering emails or sketching or worrying about the factory shipments.

But instead, I exhale.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I let my brain go quiet.

Greyson’s laughter carries from across the pool — that deep, bright sound that used to feel like a distant memory during the worst of it. Now, it’s everywhere.

He’s chasing Quinn and Poppy through a water maze, all three of them shrieking like maniacs. Lillian’s hot on their heels, pretending to be a sea monster, arms flailing as she growls dramatically.

From my vantage point, it’s pure chaos.

The good kind.

The kind we almost forgot we were allowed to have.

Hope’s giggles drift from the baby splash pool beside me, where Melissa is crouched knee-deep in shallow water, cooing at her and blowing bubbles.

It’s loud. Bright. Alive.

And I could cry from how beautiful it feels.

A shadow falls over me. Preston, one of the bodyguards, stands a respectful few paces away, scanning the crowds through his sunglasses. Even off duty, he’s a walking fortress — black polo, tactical shorts, earpiece tucked discreetly behind his ear.

He nods once. “All clear, ma’am.”

I lift my glass in a lazy salute. “Good. Because if anyone disrupts this peace, I’m using you as a human shield.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Understood.”

When he moves away again, I close my eyes.

The sun warms my skin.

Hope squeals.

Greyson’s laughter rings out again.

For once, everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

~ Greyson ~

The scream that echoes through the slides is not of terror — it’s triumph.

Poppy bursts out of the tunnel like a cannonball, water spraying everywhere as she surfaces with a grin the size of Portugal itself.

“Did you see that, Daddy?!” she yells.

“I felt that!” I laugh, shielding my face from the splash.

Quinn follows a second later, laughing so hard she nearly forgets to swim. Lillian’s right behind them, pretending to drown dramatically until the girls rescue her, which earns applause from a group of amused onlookers.

I climb out, dripping and breathless, watching them collapse into a pile of giggles.

This — this right here — is what Alyssa meant when she said she needed a break.

We all did.

A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined this kind of peace. I was always halfway between exhaustion and adrenaline, my world ruled by meetings, deadlines, and structural drawings.

Now my to-do list consists of:

• Keep the girls alive.

• Don’t let Lillian start a water fight with a stranger.

• Make sure Alyssa doesn’t work.

Number three is, admittedly, the easiest.

From across the pool, I can see her reclining under a white parasol, drink in hand, hat tilted just enough to hide her eyes. Every now and then, she smiles — that soft, sleepy smile that used to appear so rarely it felt like a miracle.

She’s glowing.

Not in the “she’s-a-fashion-icon” way — though, obviously, she is — but in the quiet, real way. The way sunlight clings to her skin, and peace looks like it finally fits her.

Poppy tugs on my hand. “Daddy, can we go again? Pleeease?”

“Third time in a row?”

She nods vigorously. “We’re training!”

“For what?”

“For the Olympics, obviously.”

I grin, defeated. “Alright, future champion. Let’s go.”

We race back up the stairs, the hot tiles warming our feet, Lillian carrying Quinn’s floaty behind us.

And for the first time in months, my heart feels light.

~ Poppy & Quinn ~

Poppy:

We’re at the best place in the entire world! There are slides and ice cream and Daddy keeps letting us go “just one more time” even though we’ve gone, like, a hundred.

Quinn:

Lillian said she used to come to places like this when she was little, but she never had anyone to chase. So now she chases us! She’s really fast though.

Poppy:

I think Mummy’s asleep. But Melissa said she’s not allowed to move unless it’s to drink. That’s silly. I’d move for ice cream.

Quinn:

I saw one of the guards fall in the lazy river earlier. He pretended he meant to, but he didn’t.

Poppy:

We laughed so hard Daddy nearly dropped his sunglasses.

Quinn:

Hope made a big splash in the baby pool and Melissa said, “Good job, Hope! You’re a natural!” So now Poppy says she’s going to teach Hope how to swim.

Poppy:

I will! She’s going to be better than Daddy!

Quinn:

Don’t tell Daddy.

~ Melissa ~

There’s a particular joy that comes from watching a baby discover water.

Hope sits in my lap, her tiny hands slapping the surface and sending glittering droplets everywhere. Every splash earns her own laughter — pure, wild, unstoppable.

I’ve worked for Alyssa long enough to know when she’s about to burn out. The signs are always the same — restless pacing, late nights sketching, coffee cups multiplying like gremlins.

So when she said, “I’m booking something,” I didn’t argue.

Now, seeing her actually resting feels like victory.

I glance toward her lounger. She’s motionless — hat shading her face, one arm dangling lazily off the side. Perfect.

The guards stand at strategic points around the pool, more relaxed than usual but still alert. Preston’s by the entrance, arms folded, scanning every guest with that quiet precision of his.

He catches my eye and nods once — his silent way of saying everything’s fine.

Hope squeals again, grabbing a handful of my necklace and tugging. I laugh softly, easing it from her grip. “You’re just like your mum, you know. Always reaching for the shiny things.”

A tiny rainbow arcs in the mist between us, and for a moment, it feels like the universe is giving us a wink.

~ Preston ~

Working for Alyssa Rose is rarely peaceful.

Normally, my day involves paparazzi barricades, uninvited visitors, and at least one phone call that begins with, “Preston, please handle it.”

Today, though… today’s different.

I’m stationed near the main pool entrance, earpiece in, scanning the crowd. Families everywhere — laughter, sunscreen, chaos. A few people recognise Alyssa, whispering and pointing, but they keep their distance. The other guards, Jones and Matteo, blend into the perimeters like shadows.

Even in relaxation, we operate like clockwork.

But it’s hard not to smile when you’re surrounded by that much happiness.

Lillian races past with Quinn perched on her shoulders, Poppy chasing them with a water gun almost as big as she is. Greyson’s right behind them, pretending to be exhausted while secretly loving every second.

And then there’s Alyssa.

She looks like peace personified — head tilted toward the sun, one hand lazily swaying her drink. If you didn’t know her story, you’d think she’d lived her entire life like this.

That’s the thing about protecting people like her: they make you believe in comebacks.

I adjust my sunglasses, scanning again, when Matteo’s voice crackles softly through my earpiece.

“All quiet, boss.”

“Copy,” I reply. “Maintain rotation.”

Hope’s laughter drifts over the radio static, and I can’t help the small chuckle that escapes me.

Who’d have thought a security detail could feel… wholesome?

~ Alyssa ~

The sun’s dipping lower now, the heat softening into gold.

I sip what’s left of my drink and stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of contentment settle into my bones.

From across the water, Greyson waves — hair dripping, shirt clinging to him — and I can’t help the smirk that curves my lips. He’s never looked more at ease.

Lillian flops down onto the lounger beside me a minute later, panting. “I think I’ve aged ten years.”

“You’ve been out there for three hours,” I remind her.

“Exactly.”

“Did you win?”

She grins wickedly. “Define ‘win.’ I only got dunked twice and bribed Quinn with ice cream once.”

Melissa appears with Hope on her hip, both of them smelling faintly of baby lotion and sunshine. “I’m stealing your baby for a nap,” she says.

“Take her,” I reply happily. “She’s the only one in this family who doesn’t need caffeine to survive.”

Preston appears a few feet away, checking his watch. “Dinner reservation’s confirmed, ma’am. Private terrace, sea view.”

“Perfect,” I say, glancing toward the fading sky. “And remind everyone — no radios at dinner. Not even you.”

He hesitates. “Ma’am—”

“That’s an order, Preston. You can relax for one meal.”

He exhales. “Understood.”

The girls come tearing around the corner, dripping wet and breathless.

“Mummy!” Quinn calls, waving. “We went on the big slide!”

Poppy nods proudly. “Lillian screamed the loudest!”

“I did not!” Lillian protests, horrified.

“She did,” Greyson confirms, walking up behind them, towel around his neck, grin smug.

I laugh until my sides ache.

This. This is what we were missing — the simple joy of being.

When the sun finally melts into the horizon and we begin gathering towels and floaties, I take one last look around.

At my girls — loud and wild and safe.

At Lillian — glowing, even as she pretends to scold the girls.

At Greyson — the love of my life, shaking his hair dry and smiling like nothing could touch us.

At Melissa and Preston — ever-steady, ever-present, our quiet anchors.

And I think, maybe the world can spin without chaos for a while.

As we step onto the shuttle back to the resort, Hope snoozing in my arms, the night air smells like salt and possibility.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t worry about tomorrow.

Because right now — right here — everything is beautiful, and everyone I love is safe.