She stared down at his hand, covering hers. It was the first time they’d touched since he’d left her. And she thought about the early days. The fun they’d had. The way they’d been by each other’s sides through everything. Zoe. “I don’t regret anything. We had plenty of good years together, Richard. Maybe it’s time to celebrate those.”

He studied her face for a long moment, searching for something. “You’ve changed. Something has happened.”

Milly thought about Nicole, about all the conversations they’d had over the past few weeks. She thought about Brendan and the night they’d spent together.

Her mother had made a full recovery, and once Milly was confident that things were steady again, she’d rearranged her date with Brendan. This time she’d told Zoe about it, and that might have been a mistake because Zoe had sat with her nose pressed to the window to see whether Brendan was hot (or buff to quote Zoe exactly) until Nicole had hauled her away to rehearse her part.

And when Brendan had invited her back to his cabin she’d said yes without hesitation, relieved that she’d had the foresight to arrange for Zoe to sleep over at her grandmother’s house. Connie, predictably, had been delighted to facilitate this new development in her daughter’s sex life, and Milly had tried not to think about the interrogation she would be facing in the coming days.

They’d drunk more champagne (Brendan had no food in his fridge, but he seemed to have plenty of beer and bubbly) and they’d sat and talked in soft voices for hours, and she wasn’t sure exactly when, but at some point they’d turned to each other and then they were kissing again, only this time it hadn’t stopped at kissing.

And the whole thing had been so deliciously exciting, so breathtakingly perfect that she’d never wanted the night to end.

And now, thinking back, she remembered how romantic it had been. She remembered the whisper of breeze through the open doors of his cabin cooling her heated skin, the sound of the lake lapping gently against the reeds beneath his deck, the feel of his fingers and the skilled brush of his mouth.

And as she’d lain there afterward, her legs tangled with his, she’d felt as if everything had changed. But it hadn’t, of course, not really. The only thing that had changed was her.

“I think I’ve just moved on.” She answered Richard’s question finally. “And it was about time. We need to find a way to function well in our new relationship.” The door to the café opened again, and Milly glanced up. “Which is why I asked Avery to join us.”

Richard almost fell off his chair. “Avery?”

“Hi.” Avery arrived at the table, a wary look in her eyes, and Milly stood up.