The sea might despise Poseidon at times, even moreso now that Amphitrite had come back with such a backbone---but she could never destroy her King. The ocean no matter how untempered as she was would never abandon Poseidon unless he was dead and the rights had to be handed over to another. Her chains would always be bound to him.
The waves rolled against Amphitrite in a soothing manner, but just as quickly rolled back out as if to scream with sadness. The sea herself was torn between them both, like a child in the middle of a custody battle.
To Poseidon the waves were just his catalyst to do as he pleased. She gave him what he desired when no one else would. The cry called out again before the waves settled and Poseidon finally made his approach, his shoes in hand as he walked across the beach.