having a vision in his head of what the shot should look like. He seems to find it and calls over, asking me to just look his way. I do and I try to ignore the looks of strangers as they walk past. Daniel smiles and walks towards me, grinning at something.
“Can I push my luck and come a bit closer?”
The question is simple enough, completely innocent, he wants to come closer to take some photos, so why does my heart rate accelerate and my cheeks flush? I clear my throat and shake my head a little to try and clear it.
“Sure.” I mumble.
A light ignites in his eyes as he gazes at me, I’m not stupid, I know what the light is. Daniel finds me as attractive as I apparently find him. The feeling of being this attracted to someone that isn’t my husband suddenly feels alien to me, it feels disrespectful. I look up into Daniel’s lens and try to stay calm. I try to calm my breathing and my racing heart. I try to calm my overactive mind that is swinging from being attracted to him and wanting to push him away and yell it is too soon to be feeling like this.
Twenty minutes later, we are making our way back to the pier, there are a lot of people milling around, some eating cones of chips, others eating donuts and some just watching everyone on the beach. The day is glorious and everyone is making the most of it. As we continue to walk further along to a restaurant right in the centre I notice Daniel’s eyes are focused on a little girl just ahead of us, her long blond hair blowing in the slight breeze, she clings on to her father’s hand and laughs at something he says. She must be about seven years old.
From the photos I’ve seen of Poppy and the way Daniel tenses and doesn’t move his eyes, I know he is being flooded with memories of his precious little girl. I can’t see what he is seeing, I don’t know what he is feeling, but I can have a pretty good guess. The same thing I feel when I see someone who, for a fleeting glance, I think is Richard. I reach for his hand and wrap my fingers around his, I give them a gentle squeeze as we walk, just letting him know, I’m here and I understand. He squeezes mine back and my heart clenches. When we reach the restaurant, we opt to sit inside and out of the sun for a little while. We place our orders, both of us laughing as we order exactly the same thing and even ask for some bread and butter too. When the waiter walks away, I look at Daniel.
“Are you okay? I’m a little worried.” I tell him.
“I’m okay. Sometimes,” he looks over my shoulder then back to me, “Sometimes I’ll see a little girl that looks so much like her, Katie. So much that I have to force myself to remember that it isn’t her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, so am I.”
“Does anything help?”
“Help with the feeling I have right now? Not really. But being here with you, spending the day like a normal person, that helps. It helps me remember that life does go on, it is going on. That I’m living and breathing and even though I hurt, I’m surviving.”
“How do you do it?” I ask in awe, “How are you so strong and still smiling?”
“I do it, because I have to. I do it because Poppy deserves to have a Dad that lives, Katie, not a Dad that crumbles and wastes his life,” he runs a hand over his face and looks at me, “And lately, I do it because of you, Katie.”
I don’t know what to say to his admission. I feel exactly the same. The one thing that has helped me lately, helped me get out of bed and to live rather than exist has been Daniel. His friendship means more to me than I thought it ever could. The connection we have is stronger than most friendships and I’d only known him for a few weeks.
“You help me more than anyone has been able to. You are the reason I get up some days, knowing I have someone who understands, someone who will be there for me when I’m a mess. Someone who wants to
“Can I push my luck and come a bit closer?”
The question is simple enough, completely innocent, he wants to come closer to take some photos, so why does my heart rate accelerate and my cheeks flush? I clear my throat and shake my head a little to try and clear it.
“Sure.” I mumble.
A light ignites in his eyes as he gazes at me, I’m not stupid, I know what the light is. Daniel finds me as attractive as I apparently find him. The feeling of being this attracted to someone that isn’t my husband suddenly feels alien to me, it feels disrespectful. I look up into Daniel’s lens and try to stay calm. I try to calm my breathing and my racing heart. I try to calm my overactive mind that is swinging from being attracted to him and wanting to push him away and yell it is too soon to be feeling like this.
Twenty minutes later, we are making our way back to the pier, there are a lot of people milling around, some eating cones of chips, others eating donuts and some just watching everyone on the beach. The day is glorious and everyone is making the most of it. As we continue to walk further along to a restaurant right in the centre I notice Daniel’s eyes are focused on a little girl just ahead of us, her long blond hair blowing in the slight breeze, she clings on to her father’s hand and laughs at something he says. She must be about seven years old.
From the photos I’ve seen of Poppy and the way Daniel tenses and doesn’t move his eyes, I know he is being flooded with memories of his precious little girl. I can’t see what he is seeing, I don’t know what he is feeling, but I can have a pretty good guess. The same thing I feel when I see someone who, for a fleeting glance, I think is Richard. I reach for his hand and wrap my fingers around his, I give them a gentle squeeze as we walk, just letting him know, I’m here and I understand. He squeezes mine back and my heart clenches. When we reach the restaurant, we opt to sit inside and out of the sun for a little while. We place our orders, both of us laughing as we order exactly the same thing and even ask for some bread and butter too. When the waiter walks away, I look at Daniel.
“Are you okay? I’m a little worried.” I tell him.
“I’m okay. Sometimes,” he looks over my shoulder then back to me, “Sometimes I’ll see a little girl that looks so much like her, Katie. So much that I have to force myself to remember that it isn’t her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, so am I.”
“Does anything help?”
“Help with the feeling I have right now? Not really. But being here with you, spending the day like a normal person, that helps. It helps me remember that life does go on, it is going on. That I’m living and breathing and even though I hurt, I’m surviving.”
“How do you do it?” I ask in awe, “How are you so strong and still smiling?”
“I do it, because I have to. I do it because Poppy deserves to have a Dad that lives, Katie, not a Dad that crumbles and wastes his life,” he runs a hand over his face and looks at me, “And lately, I do it because of you, Katie.”
I don’t know what to say to his admission. I feel exactly the same. The one thing that has helped me lately, helped me get out of bed and to live rather than exist has been Daniel. His friendship means more to me than I thought it ever could. The connection we have is stronger than most friendships and I’d only known him for a few weeks.
“You help me more than anyone has been able to. You are the reason I get up some days, knowing I have someone who understands, someone who will be there for me when I’m a mess. Someone who wants to
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