I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World-Chapter 222: First Family Trip Part 2

For a while, none of them said anything.

They didn't need to.

They just sat—one small family at the edge of a wide, endless ocean. There was no spreadsheet. No pulse dashboard. No milestones due by Friday.

Just the sound of waves and the gentle chatter of a baby discovering the texture of her first handful of sand.

—

5:10 PM — Solana Bay Villa, Outdoor Shower Patio

Angel laughed as Matthew stepped under the wide outdoor shower, still holding Aurora like a tiny, giggling loaf of bread. The baby had gotten sand into her neck folds, somehow. A mystery even the gods could not solve.

"Let me hold her—you're getting soaked!" Angel said, reaching out.

Matthew grinned. "We're already here. Might as well finish the job."

Aurora made a squeaky sound as the warm water rinsed the salt from her arms. Her eyes fluttered, not quite sure if she liked it or hated it—but her parents were smiling, so she settled on curiosity.

Angel stood by with a clean towel, ready as soon as Matthew handed her over.

Wrapped in soft cotton, Aurora yawned and blinked up at the sky. The sun was dipping now, casting warm orange across the palm trees overhead.

"You think she'll remember this?" Matthew asked, toweling off beside them.

Angel smiled down at their daughter. "No. But we will. And we'll remind her."

They carried her back inside, warm and clean, her head resting against Angel's chest as the light began to fade.

—

6:30 PM — Solana Bay Villa, Living Room

Dinner was simple: grilled bangus, mango salsa, and leftover adobo Angel had packed from home "just in case the villa food was bad." (It wasn't.)

Aurora lay in a padded travel bassinet by the couch, sucking gently on a soft silicone teether while her parents ate and talked in low voices.

"This was a good idea," Angel said, sipping a ginger-infused lemonade. "We should do this more."

Matthew nodded. "Maybe every quarter. A kind of… reset trip."

"I won't say no to sand and silence," she murmured. "Though next time we'll need more burp cloths."

He smirked. "Or just accept that we're perpetually outnumbered."

Angel raised her glass. "To strategic retreats."

"To surviving with style," Matthew replied, clinking his drink gently against hers.

From the bassinet, Aurora let out a single high-pitched "Eeh!" as if to declare victory.

—

8:50 PM — Solana Bay Villa, Upper Deck

Night had fallen completely. The ocean was no longer blue—it was black, stretching into a void dotted by reflections of starlight. A soft breeze carried the scent of sea salt and bamboo.

Angel stepped onto the upper deck wrapped in a loose cardigan. Matthew followed close behind, holding a baby monitor in one hand and two mugs of warm chamomile tea in the other.

"Aurora's down?"

"Out like a light," he confirmed, handing her a mug.

They sat on a cushioned bench overlooking the sea. Silence wrapped around them, comfortable and heavy with meaning.

"I used to think moments like this didn't exist," Angel said quietly. "That everything had to be earned through exhaustion."

Matthew took a slow sip. "Maybe it does. But that doesn't mean we can't stop and breathe."

Angel tilted her head against his shoulder. "There's still so much ahead."

"There always will be."

"But for the first time," she added, "I don't feel behind."

Matthew looked at her.

"Same," he said.

A star shot across the sky—brief, golden, fleeting.

Angel noticed. "Quick. Wish."

He smiled. "Too late. I used it on you years ago."

She groaned. "That's both cheesy and unfair."

He raised his hands. "Sorry. I'm out of rations."

They laughed together, softly.

Then they sat in silence again, the waves crashing below, the stars above blinking like patient, watching gods.

—

9:45 PM — Solana Bay Villa, Nursery Corner

They peeked into the room.

Aurora slept soundly, one hand curled into a tiny fist, her plush cat resting near her ear.

Matthew reached forward and adjusted her blanket slightly.

"She's changed everything," he whispered.

Angel nodded. "But not all at once. More like…"

"A recalibration."

"Exactly."

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They stood there a moment longer, watching her breathe.

Then Angel turned to Matthew, eyes soft. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For still being you. Even with all of this. The diapers. The detours. The new dimensions of our life."

He took her hand. "We built cities, Angel. We can build a home too."

They walked back down the hallway, lights dimmed, tea mugs half-empty on the table.

In the quiet of the villa, surrounded by sea and stars, they lay in bed side by side—closer now than they had ever been before.

Not because they had all the answers.

But because they were willing to ask the questions together.

And on the table, tucked inside Angel's journal, a line she'd written earlier glowed faintly in the moonlight:

We went to find peace—but found each other again instead.

And that was more than enough.