With Laurie as her neighbor, Katie didn't have time to mourn Paco all day. He was always with her, but she often went minutes and hours without thinking about him. Sometimes it caused her to cry, but she tried hard not to in front of her new friend.

Over the months, the women had grow close, Laurie never asked when he died and Katie didn't volunteer. When Laurie talked about her first husband, Katie wanted to ask how she moved on.

"You really never felt guilty about loving Dean? You know he was his best friend, and he's in your bed."

She stared at Katie. "Sweet thing, we've talked about this." They had more than once. It was just Katie could not imagine loving again. She and Tom were pretending. "Please don't feel guilty for loving your husband. You found a good man who takes care of you. My Dean is a gem, but your man is a polished diamond."

Katie couldn't tell her they were platonic best friends. Tom was her best friend. As much as she enjoyed her days seeing Hawaii with Laurie, her favorite days were when Tom was off.

Katie waited for Tom to return from his morning run. Meanwhile, she made him breakfast. On work days, he grabbed a protein bar. When he was off, she liked to treat him. It was her way of showing how much she appreciated him. Without Tom, she probably would have broken beyond repair. Her gratitude was endless.

She heard his voice and knew he'd be smiling, because he was talking to his brother. They hadn't seen each other in years but were so close. If he hadn't needed to care for her, he would finally have gone home. He had planned to before their world tipped over.

As much as she wanted him to reconcile with his older brother, Katie didn't want him to find Tori again. She wasn't ready for their friendship to change, as it inevitably would have to.

He came in with his phone in front of his face. "I just walked in." She smiled at Katie. "She's making breakfast."

"You're so spoiled." The voice through the phone said. It amazed Katie they sounded so similar.

"I cook too. Tell him, Luce."

She laughed and called out. "He cooks. I'll make sure he cooks tonight."

"Not tonight. I'm taking you out."

She smiled. He liked to take her out. Their dinners in restaurants almost felt like dates, because he made her feel special.

"Have fun, kids!"

Tom put his phone down. He reached over and grabbed a slice of bacon.

"Is it ready or can I shower?"

"It's ready. If you want, I'll keep it warm."

"No, as long as you don't mind the smell."

He pulled his shirt off and wiped his sweat. She found it impossible to look away. The man was beautiful. Paco was too, but Tom was fit in his own way. He was not as tall, but he was built like an athlete. He put his sweaty shirt in the small stacked washer and went into their bedroom. When he came out he had put on a white undershirt. Thomas Hayes would never sit at a table shirtless. His manners were refined, which was another way he differed from Paco.

"This is so good. Thanks, Luce."

She smiled because she had succeeded in pleasing him. When she smiled, he smiled. She could read his mind and knew he remembered when she never smiled. Sometimes her smiles were followed with guilt, but she refused to go there, because they were going to the beach. Her healing had happened on the beach. It was as if the sand and surf broke down the walls. They were never afraid to talk on the beach as their tears became one with the Pacific.

They ate in silence. In her mind, they could save their talk for the beach. After he helped clean up, he disappeared for his shower. She wasn't bothering. She would shower after the beach, but she hadn't run five miles.

Paco filled her mind, but not enough to make her cry. Living with Tom was different from Paco. Tom helped to clean their house and didn't view chores as men or women's responsibilities. She suggested they combine laundry instead of doing their own. So they washed her underwear with his, and he even did the folding. Maybe it should feel weird, but it didn't.

When Tom emerged, he wore board shorts and an Army tee. Smiling at her, he asked, "Should we pack lunch?"

Nodding, he followed her to the fridge. "There isn't much here. We need to shop."

They usually shopped together even though she could go on her own, especially when she drove him to work so she could use the car.

"Let's buy lunch. We can shop tomorrow."

Katie was a kept woman living off Tom's income. Anytime she expressed concern, he reminded her it was his job as her husband. She didn't feel like a wife, not like she had before.

Tom spread out a blanket for her to sit on while he went for a swim. Katie watched him walk away as other women turned to watch him. Part of her felt smug, because he was with her, except he wasn't, really.

On their first trip to the beach, she watched as he sliced through the water with perfect form. When he emerged she met him at the water's edge.

"How did you learn to swim like that?"

He shrugged. "Practice. I spent every summer day in the pool growing up." He told her about swimming and diving contests with his brothers and neighbors. "I was the youngest boy, I had to work hard to keep up."

It was as if Tom was trying to downplay it, but Katie knew he grew up rich. Not only did he have a pool, but his neighbors did. They played in a garden maze. He learned to drink wine because they stole bottles at his parents' parties. Patrick Murphy's idea of a party was sitting at a bar and shooting the shit. He threw a party every night for his patrons.

Hanging in Tom's closet were three garment bags. One was the coat for his uniform. He hadn't worn it since Miami. She remembered the night of the funeral when they had returned late. They cried all night. Tom mumbled a lot of sorrows and regrets. One cut through her. "I was supposed to wear that damn uniform to your wedding."

He wore dockers and a button down the day they went to the courthouse. She wore a dress, but only to complete the deception. They had one picture. Both forced smiles. She could tell if he was really smiling, because his skin crinkled around the corner of his eyes. She'd seen it often since they moved. Sometimes she noticed it when he was hiding his smile. It was his tell and her secret.

The other garment bags held his suit and tuxedo. One day, she unzipped the bag holding his suit. The fabric was unlike any suit she had ever touched. It was soft and exquisite. Tom had grown up around nice things. Some day, he would want his life back and leave her. Her stomach tensed at the thought.

Tom walked out of the water dripping wet. With her sunglasses hiding her eyes, she watched as he walked towards her. Once again she wasn't the only one.

He stood over her and shook his head like a dog causing water to spray on her. It was just enough to be refreshing since his hair was closely trimmed. He flopped his weight down on the blanket next to her.

"Good swim?"

"The best. I missed swimming." He looked deep in thought.

"You swam at Hilton Head."

He looked down. "I know. I was the only one. You..." He left his sentence hanging by not saying 'you guys' or mentioning him.

He turned on his side. She felt naked in her bikini when he looked at her. "Did you notice the women staring at you?"

He smiled a crooked smile that caused the skin at the corner of his eyes to wrinkle. "I wasn't looking. I was focused on the water and then on coming back to you and this blanket. These days are my favorite."

"Don't you like your work?"

He paused. "Yeah, but as challenging as it is, it's also stressful. Today isn't stressful. It's paradise. We deserve paradise."

"Do we?" She felt guilty whenever she enjoyed something too much. She felt her eyes watering behind her sunglasses.

Tom must have known. He reached for her hand. His touch often settled her dark thoughts. "Yes. We would be disrespecting his honor, if we stopped living."

He didn't let go of her hand, as they quietly relaxed each with their own thoughts. She didn't want to ruin the day by going into the dark abyss of sorrow.

"Tell me a story. Something I don't know about you."

He paused. "Have I told you about Bea?"

She nodded. "Your neighbor."

"Right, she's across the street. My house and hers are each next to the Calhouns."

"Calhouns? The name sounds like it belongs in Texas."

He smiled and shook his head. "Definitely Bostonians. So Bea is amazing. She wears bright colors all the time and loves to garden. Her garden has a fountain in the center. She thinks it's magical."

She had heard some of it before. "Did you make wishes?" She wanted to know what he wished for.

He laughed. "Plenty."

"Like what?"

"Silly things for years. To beat my brothers at something or other. I was always competing with them."

"Was that why you fought and left?"

He shook his head. "No. Well, partly. We all competed for our father's approval."

"And he wanted you to be a lawyer."

He nodded. "Yes, but he was proud when I saw him last."

She could see how important it was to him and squeezed his hand. "Did you ever make any serious wishes?"

"Two. One came true. I wished to escape my father's control."

"Didn't your other one come true?"

"I don't know, but if I was standing at the fountain today, I would make the same wish for you."

He intrigued her. "What?"

"The night before I left for West Point, I wished for Tori to be happy. That's my wish for you."

She used his comment as an opening to share an idea she had. "I was thinking that maybe I should try some per diem work. Eventually, I'll need to support myself and I miss nursing."

He smiled. "I think if you want to work, you should. But don't feel you have to. I've been avoiding this, but I'm going to have one more overseas trip before I'm done."

"Where?" She hated him traveling.

"I don't know. I'm hoping for Korea. I never went with him." She understood. There were restaurants in Augusta she would never go back to. "Working might help time go faster while I'm gone."

She dreaded being alone. "That and Laurie." She smiled.

"What are you knitting now?"

She blushed. She made an afghan and a scarf and hat for Tom, which he would hardly ever wear except on cold days in Augusta. Laurie had pressured her, and she was currently knitting a mint green baby sweater. She couldn't tell her friend there would be no baby. There wouldn't be an immaculate conception.

"Another afghan." She lied.

"I like the first one when the air conditioning gets too cold."

She didn't want to think about her knitting. She focused on his wish. "Why don't you know if she's happy?"