Ella fixed a dinner of tortillas, chicken, and a few vegetables in the modest kitchen space of their little piece of heaven. It was a different take on fajitas since she didn’t have all of the typical ingredients she would’ve put into them if she was in a place where she could go to a grocery store more frequently, but it would do. She’d made them a few times in the last few weeks, and Rome liked them.
He was sitting outside on a big rock, staring out at the ocean as the tide came in and lapped his bare feet. They spent a great deal of time out there, looking at the ocean or swimming in it. She knew, someday, maybe soon, she’d have to leave this place, and when she did, she’d miss this view, this freedom, this little piece of heaven.
