“I have to, and not just because things are difficult between us. I’m a mess, Milly. My life is a mess. You have no idea.” Nicole’s voice was thickened with emotion. “I thought by coming here I’d have space to figure things out, but it’s more complicated than that. I had a panic attack when Joel walked into the kitchen. Did he tell you that?”

“Of course you did. There was a strange man in the house. Anyone would have—” She stopped, seeing Nicole’s expression change. “You mean you had a real panic attack? Not a figure of speech? No, he didn’t tell me that.”

How long had Nicole been having panic attacks, and why didn’t she know about it?

And in what way was Nicole’s life a mess? Was this just about her affair with Justin, or was there something else?

She felt a mix of frustration and sadness as she compared how their relationship used to be with how it was now. A few years ago she wouldn’t have been asking herself these questions because she would have already known all the answers.

Nicole folded the T-shirt Milly had lent her. “I asked him not to, so I suppose it’s a point in his favor that he respected that. And to be fair, the poor man handled it well, particularly given that he couldn’t possibly understand. And I overreacted, of course, because of everything that has happened.”

“What has happened? You haven’t actually told me any of it. We haven’t talked.”

“You were busy,” Nicole muttered, and Milly squirmed a little inside.

She had been busy. She was always busy, but that wasn’t it, was it? Not really.

Nicole had tried to talk to her several times. Last night when they’d walked into the boathouse. This morning when Milly was rushing off to work.

Milly had brushed her off not because she was busy but because she was hurt. Also the conversation with Nicole would have been uncomfortable, and she avoided uncomfortable conversations.

If she was a different type of person, a better person, she would have sat down and talked right away. She would have told Nicole how upset she was, and they would have discussed it in a mature fashion, but instead Milly had held everything inside and nurtured the hurt.

“How long have you been having panic attacks?”

“It really doesn’t—”

“How long?”

“Just over a year. Ever since that man broke into my house.”

Milly went cold. “Someone broke into your house? Oh, Nic—”

“Hazard of being famous.” Nicole gave a careless lift of her shoulders. “They do tours past movie stars’ homes, did you know that? Hey, you know that actor you’re fixated on? That’s where she sleeps every night. I try not to think about it.”

A man broke into her house.