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It's a bit colder by the sea than Lovett imagined it would be, but that's quite all right with her, as it turns out. she can wear a thicker sweater and still touch her toes to the water. The wind ruffles her hair and then the clouds part for a moment and a stray ray of sunlight hits her hair, turns it into copper and gold.
At the width of the sea, the heaviness of her heart receeds a little, and the curl of her stomach, dreadful lies, doesn't hurt quite so much.
"Mr. Todd," she whispers and they're not married, not like she hoped they would be, because he's different from any man she's ever known, and they don't have normal, not like she wanted, but he loves her, in his own way, and it's more than enough. "It's so beautiful," she whispers and looks - not at him - but at the water, powerful and echoing with a sound of waves and seagulls.
His face is stony, but his voice is a little warmer when he gives a little agreeing sound.
She glances at his face, his haunted eyes, and she thinks, this is what you wanted, dear, and then, she thinks, she's kind of happy. And she has a suite, and a kitchen, and most importantly, the wide, blue sea before her bedroom window.