This was more than needed. Several days of sun, warm sand, exotic meals, and time with Jack that didn't involve feeling like they were being emotionally pulled through a meat grinder. It was so good, he didn't want it to stop.
Which was why, he figured, it would.
"Breakfast," he said, hopping back into the hut in the early morning. "With nights this short, do they still call it 'breakfast'? Should they call it 'it's morning again' or something like that?"