He was a wonderful man. And when a man is that special, you know it sooner than you think possible. You recognize it instinctively, and you're certain that no matter what happens, there will never be another one like him.

She couldn’t read his expression. As he started toward her, she recalled the way he’d seemed to glide through the sand the first time she’d ever seen him; she remembered their kiss on the boat dock the night of his sister’s wedding. And she heard again the words she’d said to him on the day they’d said good-bye. She was besieged by a storm of conflicting emotions—desire, regret, longing, fear, grief, love. There was so much to say, yet what could they really begin to say in this awkward setting and with so much time already passed?

And for an instant, I fantasized about wrapping my arms around her right then and there.

You made me happy and you made me laugh, and if I could do it all over again, I would not hesitate. Look at our life, at the trips we took, the adventures we had. As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you.

He works at the kennel with Nana," Ben piped up. "And I think him and Mom are dating." At that, a stillness fell over a throng of admirers, punctuated by a few uncomfortable coughs.

The romantics would call this a love story, the cynics would call it a tragedy.

Poetry, she thought, wasn't written to be analyzed; it was meant to inspire without reason, to touch without understanding.