Ryan knocked back the rest of his orange juice, rinsed his glass, and set it in the drain. The past week had been one of the best he had ever known. Nothing beyond Ft. Myers Beach existed for him. Not, Psycho Marlo, the avalanche of bad publicity, the pressure from the team…nothing. He and Kaitlyn had been happy in their own little world. She wasn't back to running yet but she walked on the beach while he ran and waited for him to come back. Sometimes they waded into the surf for a quick swim. They played tourist, in this typical tourist beach town, strolling the narrow sidewalks, eating ice cream.
The weather was so pleasant that, unless they went out, they ate each night on her porch, with a soft breeze stirring the air and the last of the sun's dying rays casting everything in a golden
