like sand castles in the tide, slowly washing out to sea. The same thing was happening with the portrait of Carly that hung in his bedroom. In their first year of marriage, he’d arranged to have her portrait taken, despite her protests. He was glad for that. In the photo, she looked beautiful and independent, the strong-willed woman who’d captured his heart, and at night, after the kids were in bed, he would sometimes stare at his wife’s image, his emotions in turmoil. But Josh and Kristen barely noticed the photo at all.
He thought of her often, and he missed the companionship they’d once shared and the friendship that had been the bedrock of their marriage at its best. And when he was honest with himself, he knew he wanted those things again. He was lonely, even though it bothered him to admit it. For months after they lost her, he simply couldn’t imagine ever being in another relationship, let alone consider the possibility of loving someone again. Even after a year, it was the kind of thought he would force from his mind. The pain was too fresh, the memory of the aftermath too raw. But a few months ago, he’d taken the kids to the aquarium and as they’d stood in front of the shark tank, he’d struck up a conversation with an attractive woman standing next to him. Like him, she’d brought her kids, and like him, she wore no ring on her finger. Her children were the same ages as Josh and Kristen, and while the four of them were off pointing at the fish, she’d laughed at something he’d said and he’d felt a spark of attraction, reminding him of what he had once had. The conversation eventually came to an end and they went their separate ways, but on the way out, he’d seen her once more. She’d waved at him and there’d been an instant when he contemplated jogging over to her car and asking for her phone number. But he didn’t, and a moment later, she was pulling out of the parking lot. He never saw her again.
That night, he waited for the wave of self-reproach and regret to come, but strangely, it didn’t. Nor did it feel wrong. Instead, it felt… okay. Not affirming, not exhilarating, but okay, and he somehow knew it meant he was finally beginning to heal. That didn’t mean, of course, that he was ready to rush headlong into the single life. If it happened, it happened. And if it didn’t? He figured he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He was willing to wait until he met the right person, someone who not only brought joy back into his life, but who loved his kids as much as he did. He recognized, however, that in this town, the odds of finding that person were tiny. Southport was too small. Nearly everyone he knew was either married or retired or attending one of the local schools. There weren’t a lot of single women around, let alone women who wanted a package deal, kids included. And that, of course, was the deal breaker. He might be lonely, he might want companionship, but he wasn’t about to sacrifice his kids to get it. They’d been through enough and would always be his first priority.
Still… there was one possibility, he supposed. Another woman interested him, though he knew almost nothing about her, aside from the fact that she was single. She’d been coming to the store once or twice a week since early March. The first time he’d seen her, she was pale and gaunt, almost desperately thin. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have given her a second glance. People passing through town often stopped at the store for sodas or gasoline or junk food; he seldom saw such people again. But she wanted none of those things; instead, she kept her head down as she walked toward the grocery aisles, as if trying to remain unseen, a ghost in human form. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t working. She was too attractive to go unnoticed. She was in her late twenties, he guessed, with brown hair cut a little unevenly above her shoulder. She wore no makeup and her high cheekbones and round, wide-set eyes gave her an elegant if slightly fragile appearance.
At the register, he realized that up close she was even prettier than she’d been from a distance. Her eyes were a greenish-hazel color and flecked with gold,