Nicholas Sparks - Safe Haven

“Anything.”

“I want you to be… happy.” At this, he saw the ghost of her old smile, the confident, self-possessed smile that had captivated him at their first meeting.

“I am happy.”

She gave a faint shake of her head. “I’m talking about the future.” Her eyes gleamed with the intensity of hot coals in her sunken face. “We both know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t.”

She ignored his response. “Marrying you… being with you every day and having children with you… it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

His throat closed up. “Me, too,” he said. “I feel the same way.”

“I know,” she said. “And that’s why this is so hard for me. Because I know that I’ve failed—”

“You haven’t failed,” he broke in.

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.”

Brittle snow coated the yards of Dorchester, forming a glittering shell over the world outside her window. The January sky, gray the day before, had given way to an icy blue and the temperature was below freezing.

It was Sunday morning, the day after she’d had her hair done. She peeked in the toilet for blood, sure she’d see some after she peed. Her kidney still throbbed, radiating pain from her shoulder blades to the backs of her legs. It had kept her up for hours as Kevin snored beside her, but thankfully, it wasn’t as serious as it could have been. After closing the bedroom door behind her, she limped to the kitchen, reminding herself that in just a couple of days, it would be over. But she had to be careful not to arouse Kevin’s suspicions, to play things exactly right. If she ignored the beating he had given her the night before, he would be suspicious. If she went too far, he would be suspicious. After four years of hell, she’d learned the rules.

Kevin had to go into work at noon, even though it was Sunday, and she knew he’d be up soon. The house was cold and she pulled on a sweatshirt over her pajamas; in the mornings, Kevin didn’t mind, usually because he was too hung over to care. She started the coffee and put the milk and sugar on the table, along with butter and jelly. She set his silverware out and placed a cup of ice water beside the fork. After that, two pieces of toast went in the toaster, though she couldn’t toast them just yet. She put three eggs on the counter, where she could reach them quickly. When that was done, she placed half a dozen slices of bacon in the frying pan. They were sizzling and popping when Kevin finally wandered into the kitchen. He took a seat at the empty table and drank his water as she brought him a cup of coffee.

“I was dead to the world last night,” he said. “What time did we end up going to bed?”

“Maybe ten?” she answered. She put the coffee beside his empty glass. “It wasn’t late. You’ve been working hard and I know you’ve been tired.”

His eyes were bloodshot. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean it. I’ve just been under a lot of pressure lately. Since Terry’s heart attack, I’ve been having to do the work of two people, and the Preston case starts this week.”

“It’s okay,” she said. She could still smell the alcohol on his breath. “Your breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

At the stove, she turned the bacon with a fork and a splash of grease scalded her arm, making her temporarily forget the pain in her back.