Stavanger Bay [m] the sparrows drag me down

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Gone.

Dutch felt a muted sense of grief, and then just as quickly, stepped past it. They were gone. Gone, he was familiar with. Gone made more sense than Marina being here.

She was right, though. The sea had taken much, but it had given her back to him. He just had to be careful not to let himself wish for more.

"I will stay where you stay," he reiterated, not keen on trying to force her from the coast even if she'd had only a lukewarm appreciation for it. The sea had taken much, but if she wanted it, it was hers. Dutch did not want to take anything more from her.

He drew her gratefully into him, preening along the back of her neck. He had more questions for her, but once again, he struggled to pluck even one from the clamoring in his head. The scent and feel of her quieted those voices, and he sought the physical affirmation of their togetherness.

"Let me make love to you," he begged her.