The waiter smiled as he set down the bowl.
“Your husband must have loved this place.”Plan Routes
“He did,” I replied. “He told me about it for years.”
I ate every bite, took photographs of the harbor, and even captured a picture of the empty chair across from me.
Somewhere between the first spoonful and the last, I realized I was enjoying myself.
Then guilt crept in.
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How could I enjoy a beautiful morning when Martin was gone?Edit Photos
But perhaps he had understood something I hadn’t yet learned. Loving someone who had died didn’t mean I had to stop experiencing the world they had loved.
When I returned to the ship, I found Thomas near the elevators and told him about the café.
He smiled when I mentioned the empty chair.
“Your husband kept a photograph of you on the bridge,” he told me. “Right beside the compass.”
