40

We made our way to the elevator, the hall deserted. I kept my arm around her, not only for the support she provided, but because I liked her close. In the car, I leaned my head back, shutting my eyes again, letting the cool seep back into my skin from the compress she tucked around my neck.

I slipped my hand over hers. “Thank you.” Her lips brushed mine. “Always.”

I drew in a deep, bracing lungful of air. I loved living this close to the water. Katy had gone to yoga, and after I woke up, I came outside, grateful the storm had passed, taking with it the worst of my headache. I glanced around the backyard, thinking of the changes that had occurred in the months since we moved in.

A pool had been the first order of business, and it now sat to the one side, glistening and serene in the early evening light. Beside it was the pool house

—Katy’s favorite part of the backyard. It was the cottage she shared with Penny on their brief holidays; bright blue, with white shutters, her memories still