Tell me what you want, but Florida is not Hawaii. I’ve had months now to get over the shock of moving to a new place. And yes, Florida was also the kind of beautiful beach destination that tourists would come to in order to “get away from it all.” But Florida is a big state, and we didn’t live in a place with the kind of name that made you think of a getaway or a honeymoon. No. We lived in a place with the nickname The Boggy Bayou. Complete with big trucks covered in “Mud Life” stickers and restaurants that sold fried shark on a stick.

But I moved here for a reason. I moved here for him. As a wedding designer I was usually stuck watching bridezillas live a fairytale life while I went back to my tiny apartment and tabby cat. However, one lucky night when I decided to stay for the entire three-hour long afterparty instead of handling the rest over to my assistant. I wasn’t the only one hiding in the corner and people watching that night. Mark, the charismatic-looking best man, was also trying to hide from the crowds. It turned out he was there for his friend, but otherwise didn’t really know anyone there. We got talking, and the three hours passed by in what felt like minutes.

Fast forward a few months and I am taking a huge leap across the ocean from Kauai to Mark’s hometown in the Florida panhandle. There is plenty of work for me here, too. The beach brings people from all over to the area for weddings. But there is something here I just can’t put my finger on that just doesn’t feel right.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey, babe! Whatcha up to?” Mark chirped coming through the door to our townhome with much more excitement than was his style recently.

“Hi?” I answered, looking him over for a sign as to why he might be acting so weird, “I was just about to start making some spaghetti for dinner.”

“Sounds wonderful! So, anything special happen today? Any big news?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” I got up from the sofa, giving him a little squeeze before ducking into the kitchen. He was definitely starting to freak me out. I pulled out a pot from the cupboard, filling it was water, salt, and oil and clanked it down on the gas stove to boil.

“No wedding you are excited about that might be coming up?”

“Not that I have as a client right now. Why?”

“Oh, I just have it on good authority there would be an upcoming wedding and I thought you would be excited about it.”

“How can I be excited about something I have no idea about?” I snapped a little frustrated. Why was the water not boiling already?! “Anyway,” I took a breath, “How was work?”

“Couldn’t wait to get home,” he winked. He still had that goofy grin on his face.

I sighed, walking over to him, and he immediately enveloped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered, “I know it hasn’t been easy for you here. I was hoping you would settle in and feel more at home here.”

“I know. I’m trying. I promise.” I was on the verge of tears, but that felt a little dramatic so I tried to keep them in as I listened to his heartbeat. He was much taller than me, and he always made me feel like a child when he held me like that.

“Speaking of which, have you checked on your coconut today, babe? Maybe it is sprouting.”

He had ordered me a real coconut from the island so I could plant a piece of home in the yard. “Not today.”

The water was starting to bubble, but before I could break from his grasp to pour some dry noodles in the pot, he was pulling me from the kitchen towards the sliding glass door that led to our backyard.

“Let’s check it, maybe that will cheer you up!” He pulled us both out into the yard, not even bothering to close the door and stopped us in front of the coconut sitting next to our holly bushes. “Look! I think it might be sprouting.”

“It is,” I smiled, and looked back up at him, “Thank you for this, babe. It is nice to have a piece of home.”

“Did you see where it is sprouting out? I mean, really see it?”

“Okay, I’ll indulge you,” I laughed, “But then I really need to finish making dinner before we forget the pot on the stove and burn down the house.”

His smile was even bigger and goofier than before as I knelt down beside the coconut. There, on the green stalk that coming from the cracked husk was a shiny piece of metal. I reached down to touch it, glittered as the light hit it. It was a diamond ring.

I turned to face Mark, my mouth was probably hanging open like an idiot but I didn’t care. He was on his knee.

“I thought we could both try and make a home here. Together. Will you marry me, Audrey?”

Of course I said yes. And he picked me up and swung me around like in the movies, kissing me like he did back in Hawaii.

And no, Florida is not Hawaii. But Florida is home.