The tensions of the previous night seemed almost forgotten, but Nicole knew it had to be addressed. And maybe this wasn’t the right place, but it felt like the right time. It had to be the right time because the urge to fix this, to make everything right, was so powerful it was beyond her control.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after Richard left.”

Milly was still looking at her mother. “You were put in a horrible situation. I’m sorry I didn’t immediately see that. I wish you’d told me at the time.”

This time Nicole was determined not to duck any of the issues. “Because then you and Richard might still be together.”

“No.” Milly turned her head to look at her. “Because then you wouldn’t have had to carry the weight of what you heard on your own. We could have figured it out together, the way we always used to figure things out together. But I can see why you were afraid to tell me.”

Nicole glanced quickly at Connie, wondering if they were disturbing her, but she was still asleep.

“I felt as if it was my fault. That he’d left because I’d given him that ultimatum. I wanted to be there for you because you were at your lowest point, but after what I’d said to him I felt like a hypocrite.”

“That wasn’t my lowest point,” Milly said. “My lowest point was when I realized that as well as losing my husband, I’d lost my best friend.”

Nicole kept hold of her hand. “You didn’t lose me, but I didn’t know how to make things right. And then my life blew up, and I had no one else to turn to. And the fact that you met me at the station that night and brought me back to the boathouse and gave me a safe place to stay confirmed what I’d always known. That you are a one-in-a-million friend.”

The room was silent, but in the distance they heard the shriek of an ambulance siren. Nicole wondered who was in the ambulance. Someone’s loved one. Someone’s friend. Someone else whose life had probably changed in an instant.

“I wasn’t a one-in-a-million friend,” Milly said softly. “Yes, I picked you up, but I was determined to keep some distance. I was cold toward you.”

“I assumed you didn’t need me anymore. That you’d coped fine without me.”

“I wasn’t fine. And I did need you, but I was hurt and trying to protect myself. You’d shown that you didn’t need me, so I was determined not to need you either. And the more distant I was, the more afraid you were of telling me the truth. I made everything harder, and I’m sorry.”

The apology was unexpected.