Page 34 of Catch Me When I Fall

More laughter bubbled up from me and he joined in. His laugh reminded me of Robert’s and by the time it died down, I had a bitter taste in my mouth.

Still, the guilt never came.

It didn’t come when he complimented my smile.

It didn’t come when he leaned in closer as he told me about the ends and outs of fishing.

It didn’t come when he asked me to grab a bit to eat.

It didn’t come when we were sitting across from each other in a booth at Margie’s.

He ordered the fish, and I stuck with a hamburger. Halfway through the meal, reality set in.

I was moving on from Robert. The chains were finally breaking.

As Leo told me a cheesy joke, I smiled back at him. The conversation was light—easy. There was no pressure, and I didn’t have to walk on eggshells like I had with Robert. Even when we were dating, I always had this feeling I had to impress him.

By the end of the meal, I was relaxed and grateful for the last week of my life. The note, along with the creepy woman at Rossy’s today, were distant memories.

Leo walked me to my car, keeping a respectful distance from me. He stood two feet away with his hands in his pockets as I unlocked my vehicle. He didn’t crowd me. He didn’t try to make a move. He simply said, “Thank you for getting dinner with me.”

I looked down to my feet for a moment. “Thank you for asking me.”

“Can I ask you again?” His voice was soft, his eyes shining in the dim light around us.

I waited for a moment, for the guilt. It never came. I nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

He gave me a crooked smile and rocked back on his heels. “Perfect. Have a good night, Carrie.”

“You too, Leo.” I watched him walk back across the street, back down to the docks.

As I stared at his back, I tried to picture us as a couple, but the image was fuzzy. With Robert, anytime I’d imagined it, the picture was always somewhat clear but tainted.

I got in the car and pulled out my phone to text Sarah.

She may be my boss, but she was also becoming a friend.

Me: I think I just went on a date.

The day after we’d gotten everything sorted out with the house and all the paperwork was signed, she took me out to dinner. During the meal, she asked me how I was doing and, all at once, I was telling her about Robert. Did I tell her everything? No. Did she know he was brutally murdered? No. I only told her a few details of our relationship, how we met, how he proposed, how long we were married. The picture I’d painted for her was pretty, leaving the ugly details out. There were still things about my marriage that even I was trying to figure out. Some memories were fuzzier than others and I didn’t understand why.

Sarah also knew it had been a year since Robert’s death.

Still, I’d just met a man and gone to dinner with him. I wanted to tell someone about that. I sat in my car, staring at the text as my mind ran a million miles an hour, anxiety taking over.

Was it okay to text her like this?

Would she judge me for going out with a man when I’d only been here for a week?

Was I stupid for trying to move on from Robert so soon? It had only been a year, but…it felt like a lifetime.

Sarah: Really? That’s great!!! Anyone I know?

I blinked as my heart skipped a beat.

She accepted it. She didn’t scold me or ignore me.

I bit my lip as I typed out a reply.

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