Defeated, he sat on the fallen tree trunk and wept. Sorting refuge in the deserted beach, he had hoped the soft rainfall would wash away his shame. Wished the crashing waves would give him a clean slate, as it did the shore. If only it were that easy. Quietly she crept up behind him, extending her blanket covered arms like a bird preparing for flight. Gently she pressed her body onto his, her cheek touching his. Interlocking her fingers into his cold, wet hands, she tightly embraced him. “It’s not over,” she whispered, “give it one more try; for me”.