Page 201 of At First Catch

Nolan hesitates.

I can see him trying to choose between us and responsibility in real time.

“You should answer it,” I say.

Immediate guilt flashes across his face.

“It’s okay,” I whisper.

But even while I say it, I realize something important: reassurance and security are not the same thing. And for the first time since falling in love with Nolan, I’m starting to understand how intimidating that difference can become.

By Sunday evening, things between Nolan and me feel calmer again. Like both of us finally understand how easily fear can distort love if we stop communicating honestly.

The knowledge settles warmly through me as I sit beside Nolan at the end of the western dock, watching the sunset spread gold and coral across Back Bay.

The marina buzzes around us.

Weekend tourists drift between slips carrying seafood baskets and shopping bags while music from the dock restaurant patio hums across the water. Charter captains laugh near the fuel station. Kids run along the boardwalk eating melting ice cream while gulls circle overhead in lazy arcs.

Beside me, Nolan finally looks like he’s breathing again. His shoulder brushes mine lightly while we sit side by side at the edge of the dock with our legs stretched toward the water.

There is an automatic awareness every time he touches me. Like my body recognizes him before my thoughts do.

Nolan glances sideways at me.

“What?”

I blink once. “What do you mean what?”

“You’re staring again.”

“I’m allowed.” I smile despite myself. “You’ve become very judgmental lately.”

“Dating you has been emotionally exhausting.”

A startled laugh escapes me. Warmth flickers between us afterward. The kind of ease I was afraid we might lose this week.

Nolan studies me carefully for another moment.

“You feeling better?” he asks.

The concern in his voice catches me off guard. Because even while everything’s been tense, Nolan still watches me constantly. Still notices shifts in my mood before I say anything aloud.

“Yeah,” I admit. “You?”

He exhales toward the water.

“Trying.”

The honesty in the answer matters more than false reassurance ever could. I think that’s what changed after our fight. Not that everything magically improved. That Nolan stopped pretending he could carry fear without letting me see it.

I lean my head lightly against his shoulder, and his entire body melts around the contact.

“You know what’s weird?” I murmur.

“What?”

“I think this week made me love you more.”