Her expression was sad. “I love you, Alex, and I love our kids,” she whispered. “And it would break my heart to think that you’ll never be completely happy again.”
“Carly—”
“I want you to meet someone new.” She struggled to take a deep breath, her fragile rib cage heaving with the effort. “I want her to be smart and kind… and I want you to fall in love with her, because you shouldn’t spend the rest of your life alone.”
Alex couldn’t speak, could barely see her through his tears.
“The kids need a mom.” To his ears, it sounded almost like a plea. “Someone who loves them as much as I do, someone who thinks of them as her own children.”
“Why are you talking about this?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“Because,” she said, “I have to believe that it’s possible.” Her bony fingers clutched at his arm with desperate intensity. “It’s the only thing I have left.”
Now, as he saw Katie chasing after Josh and Kristen on the grassy shoulder of the duck pond, he felt a bittersweet pang at the thought that maybe Carly had gotten her last wish after all.
* * *
She liked him too much for her own good. Katie knew that she was walking a dangerous line. Telling him about her past had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and speaking the words had freed her somehow from the crushing burden of her secrets. But the morning after their first dinner, she was paralyzed with anxiety by what she had done. Alex used to be an investigator, after all, which probably meant he could easily make a phone call or two, no matter what he’d said to her. He’d talk to someone and they’d talk to someone and eventually, Kevin would learn of it. She hadn’t told him that Kevin had an almost eerie ability to connect seemingly random information; she hadn’t mentioned that when a suspect was on the run, Kevin almost always knew where to find him. Simply thinking about what she’d done made her sick to her stomach.
But gradually, over the next couple of weeks, she felt her fears ebb. Instead of asking her more questions when they were alone, Alex acted as if her revelations had no bearing on their lives in Southport. The days passed with easy spontaneity, untroubled by shadows from her prior life. She couldn’t help it: she trusted him. And when they kissed, which happened with surprising frequency, there were times when her knees went shaky and it was all she could do to stop from taking his hand and dragging him into the bedroom.
On Saturday, two weeks after their first date, they stood on her front porch, his arms wrapped around her, his lips against hers. Josh and Kristen were at an end-of-the-year swimming party hosted by a kid in Josh’s class. Later, Alex and Katie planned to take them to the beach for an evening barbecue, but for the next few hours, they’d be alone.
When they finally separated, Katie sighed. “You really have to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“I can’t help it.”
I know the feeling, Katie thought. “Do you know what I like about you?”
“My body?”
“Yes. That, too.” She laughed. “But I also like that you make me feel special.”
“You are special,” he said.
“I’m serious,” she said. “But it makes me wonder why you never found someone else. Since your wife passed away, I mean.”
“I haven’t been looking,” he said. “But even if there was someone else, I would have dumped her so I could be with you instead.”
“That’s not nice.” She poked him in the ribs.
“It’s true, though. Believe it or not, I’m picky.”
“Yeah,” she said, “real picky. You only go out with emotionally scarred women.”
“You’re not emotionally scarred. You’re tough. You’re a survivor. It’s actually kind of sexy.”
“I think you’re just trying to flatter me in the hopes I’ll rip off your clothes.”
“Is it working?”
“You’re getting closer,” she admitted, and the sound of his laughter reminded her again how much he loved her.
“I’m glad you ended up in Southport,” he said.
“Uh-huh.” For an instant she seemed to disappear inside herself.
“What?” He scrutinized her face, suddenly alert.
She shook her head. “It was so close…” She sighed, hugging her arms around herself at the memory. “I almost didn’t make it.”
22
Brittle snow coated the yards of Dorchester, forming a glittering shell over the world outside her window. The January