The beach felt different when it was quiet.
No crowd. No noise. Just five people, the sea, and a day with nowhere else to be.
Cynthia slipped off her sandals and let the sand sink between her toes, smiling despite herself. The ocean stretched endlessly ahead, sunlight dancing on its surface.
"This," Lina announced dramatically, arms wide, "is exactly what I needed."
Evan dropped their bags onto the sand. "You say that every time you see water."
"And I'm always right," Lina replied.
Aunt Veronica laughed, already unfolding a beach mat. "You're all acting like children."
Alexander glanced at Cynthia. "She's enjoying it too."
Cynthia caught the look and smiled faintly. "I am."
Alexander rolled up his sleeves. "Good. Then today is officially non-serious."
"That's a miracle," Evan said.
They settled in easily. Shoes abandoned. Conversations overlapping. Lina challenged Evan to a race to the water and immediately lost. Aunt Veronica applauded anyway.
Alexander surprised everyone by joining a game of beach volleyball with them—barefoot, laughing when he missed a catch, pretending not to notice when Evan teased him.
"I didn't know you could relax," Lina said.
"I do," Alexander replied. "Rarely. But effectively."
Cynthia watched him from a distance, something warm stirring in her chest. This version of him—unguarded, smiling—felt almost unreal.
At some point, Aunt Veronica pulled Cynthia aside. "He looks lighter today."
Cynthia hesitated. "He does."
"That usually happens when people stop pretending," Aunt Veronica said knowingly.
Later, they sat in a loose circle, sharing snacks and stories. Evan talked too much. Lina laughed too loudly. Aunt Veronica told embarrassing childhood stories about Alexander.
"That never happened," Alexander protested.
"Oh, it absolutely did," Veronica said. "You cried because your sandcastle collapsed."
Cynthia laughed before she could stop herself.
Alexander looked at her. "You're enjoying this."
"I am," she admitted.
The sun dipped lower. The laughter softened. And for a while, nothing else mattered.