Updated Dec 4, 2025 • ~5 min read
They flew to Italy Monday morning—two weeks in Tuscany, away from real life and responsibilities.
“I still can’t believe we’re married,” Savannah said on the flight. She kept looking at her wedding ring, still not quite used to it.
“Get used to it, Mrs. Dale. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Best kind of stuck.”
They landed in Florence, rented a car, and drove to a villa in the countryside. Stone walls, vineyard views, everything rustic and romantic.
“This is incredible,” Savannah breathed, looking around their room. Exposed beams, antique furniture, French doors opening onto a private terrace.
“Two weeks of this. No work, no stress. Just us.”
They spent the first few days exploring. Florence with its art and architecture. Small towns with cobblestone streets and family-run restaurants. Vineyards offering wine tastings and breathtaking views.
“I could live here,” Savannah said one evening. They were on their villa terrace, watching the sunset with glasses of local wine.
“We’d miss Seattle.”
“We could split time. Half year here, half year there.”
“Very practical. I’m sure our jobs would be fine with that.”
She laughed. “A girl can dream.”
The honeymoon was everything they needed. Lazy mornings in bed, long dinners that lasted hours, exploring without agendas or schedules. Just being together without the pressure of real life.
“This is nice,” Barry said their fifth day. They were hiking through olive groves, hand in hand.
“Just nice?”
“Okay, it’s perfect. Being married to you is perfect.”
“Better.”
One evening, they took a cooking class—learning to make fresh pasta with a local grandmother named Tricia who barely spoke English but communicated perfectly through food and laughter.
“You’re good at this,” Barry observed as Savannah rolled out dough.
“I’m a woman of many talents.”
“I’m aware.”
They ate the pasta they’d made on the villa terrace under string lights, feeling like characters in a movie.
“Thank you for this,” Savannah said. “For the honeymoon, for following me across the country, for everything.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on us two years ago. For saying yes when I proposed. For marrying me.”
“Easiest yes I ever gave.”
The second week, they slowed down even more. Spent entire days at the villa, reading and swimming and just existing together.
“We should do nothing more often,” Savannah said, floating in the pool.
“When we get home, we’re both going to be slammed with work. Enjoy the nothing while it lasts.”
“Don’t remind me about real life. I’m pretending it doesn’t exist.”
But real life did exist, and it was calling. Emails from their jobs, texts from family, the world slowly intruding.
“We should probably check in,” Barry said reluctantly their last full day.
“Do we have to?”
“We fly home tomorrow. Might as well see what disaster awaits.”
They spent an hour catching up on emails and messages. Work had survived without them. Family was thrilled with wedding photos. Life had continued.
“Ready to go back?” Barry asked.
“Ready to go back to our life, yes. Ready to leave Italy, no.”
“We can come back. Maybe for an anniversary.”
“Every anniversary. Make it tradition.”
Their last night in Italy, they dressed up and went to a fancy restaurant in a nearby town. Multiple courses, excellent wine, the full Italian dining experience.
“This trip has been perfect,” Savannah said over dessert. “Exactly what I needed after all the wedding stress.”
“Agreed. Though I’m also excited to get home. Start our married life for real.”
“In our apartment, with our jobs, our normal routine.”
“But as husband and wife now.”
“That part will take getting used to.”
They walked back to the villa slowly, savoring their last night. Made love one more time in the Italian villa, surrounded by the sounds of the countryside.
“I love you,” Savannah murmured in the darkness.
“I love you too. Ready for forever?”
“With you? Always ready.”
The flight home was long but comfortable. They watched movies, slept, talked about plans for when they got back.
“We should host a dinner party,” Savannah suggested. “Invite Seattle friends, show off our wedding photos.”
“And we need to write thank-you notes for all the gifts.”
“Ugh, I forgot about that. So many thank-you notes.”
“We’ll divide them up. Make it less painful.”
Landing in Seattle felt surreal. Back to real life after two weeks of honeymoon bliss.
Their apartment looked exactly as they’d left it—but somehow different now that they were returning as husband and wife.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Dale,” Barry said, carrying her over the threshold.
“That’s so cheesy.”
“You love cheesy.”
“I really do.”
They unpacked slowly, jet-lagged and tired but happy. This was their life now. Married life. The beginning of forever.
“Work tomorrow,” Savannah said that night, climbing into their bed. “Back to reality.”
“Our reality is pretty good though.”
“The best reality.”
They fell asleep tangled together, home from their honeymoon, ready to start the next chapter.
Married.
Together.
Always.
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