Page 154 of At First Catch

I exhale, looking out across the water.

“I’ve never belonged somewhere before.”

Silence settles between us, and I glance back toward her. She’s watching me like every vulnerable thing I say matters enough to hold gently.

God.

I love her so much it physically hurts sometimes.

“What’s that feel like?” she asks.

The question catches me off guard. I stare out toward Back Bay where sunlight flashes gold across the waves.

“Terrifying.”

Hadley’s fingers tighten around mine.

“Why?”

I laugh under my breath.

“Because now there’s something to lose.”

The honesty leaves the air completely still afterward. That’s the truth underneath all of it. The fear. The attachment. The overwhelming intensity of loving this life.

Not fear of commitment. Fear of heartbreak.

Because losing any of this now? It would destroy me in ways I don’t think I’d recover from.

Hadley shifts closer beside me until her shoulder presses fully against mine.

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think people who’ve never had a home are usually the ones who love hardest once they finally find one.”

Emotion swells painfully in my chest.

Every time I think Hadley can’t possibly see deeper into me—she proves me wrong again.

Hadley’s words stay with me the rest of the afternoon.

People who’ve never had a home are usually the ones who love hardest once they finally find one.

The more I contemplate it, the more scarily true it feels.

The marina closes that evening beneath streaks of pink and gold stretching across Back Bay while charter boats drift back toward their slips one by one.

Most of the crews head home around sunset. I stay. Partly because there’s still work to finish. Mostly because I’ve started liking the marina best at night. When it’s quiet. Still. Mine.

The restored marina glows warmly in the fading dusk: fresh railings, repaired slips, and string lights reflecting gold against dark water.

Three months ago this place was broken. Now it feels alive enough to breathe.

The parallel hits me so hard that I stop walking entirely. Because that’s exactly what Hadley did to me too.

“You missed dinner.”