They say your future is dependent upon the choices you make in the present. That makes a whole lot of sense then again, we still can alter the choices we've already made if we need to, can't we?

"Would you mind having lunch with me sometime?" He asked.

I could feel my stomach float out of sheer nervousness. Was he really asking me out? Why for that matter?

"I-uh-" I said glancing at my phone. We had talked for roughly twenty minutes and the topic was focused on how I was doing. 

How was I doing? That was a very relative question.

"You have the freedom to actually say no," Nick said smiling.

"Um, it's not that," I said holding back tears.  Damn you, Todd.

"Are you ok?" Nick asked reaching for my hand and brushing it lightly.

Bold move my friend, but I am not that broken.

"No. No, I am not but, I'll be fine." I said.

"Sorry to speculate but, does it have to do with the reason you're dressed in black?" He went on.

"Kind of," I said. "I just buried my husband today."

"Oh. I-uh-my condolences," he said taking his hand back uncomfortably.

"Thank you," I said. I could tell he was trying to place my age and the fact that I had just lost my husband was indeed a shock to him.

"Would you still like to talk about it over lunch or dinner someday?" He asked. This time, he was smiling encouragingly.

"Yeah," I said weakly.

"I will take your number and help you keep your word," Nick said slipping out his phone.

"Why?" I blurted.

"Why what?" He asked, meeting my eyes.

"Why bother with a grieving widow?" I replied. Saying the word widow made my heart sink deeper.

"Life moves on, Kathleen. No matter how bad it looks, you need to find a way to actually keep going." He replied, his gray eyes piercing mine. "Besides that, I simply would like to get to know you and not just be the guy who once fixed your cracked screen."

It was the way he said it that made me think about what Todd had said in his horrible letter. All I ever did for two years was focus all my energy on loving him in that, I completely forgot who I was.