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worry about her, but she didn’t get the words out before Jenny

sidled up to the island where Claire was working. She put her

hands on the surface and leaned in, inspecting the dough

Claire was letting rise off to the side. She raised a brow.

“I never should have told you to let her go. I was worried

about you, but it wasn’t for me to say. I wasn’t trying to give

you orders. I was trying to make things better, not worse. I’m

sorry.”

Claire gave a watery smile. She didn’t like being so

transparent. When had that happened? Before she was a wall,

and now she was a window where anyone could look inside

her. It was horrible. “I’m fine.”

“But you’re cooking.”

“Baking, actually.”

“Baking. Whatever. You don’t do that. You hate doing that.

Because it reminds you of all the bullshit.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You’re doing it because you miss her. You haven’t been

sleeping. You haven’t been eating.”

“I know that too.” She glanced at the bowls. “Maybe I’m

here because I was hungry.”

Jenny snorted at that. “I don’t think so.”

Claire looked up and met the other woman’s gaze. How was

it possible that Jenny looked so pretty and refreshed even in

the middle of the night? She imagined that, in turn, Jenny was

looking at a haggard ghost who was on the verge of losing

everything.

I think I’ve already lost it. I let her go.

“What are you making?” Jenny’s deft change of subject

came at exactly the right time.