“I’m pleased.” She said it firmly. She didn’t want to become the sort of person who couldn’t be happy for someone else, but still she found herself wanting to head for the door. “I need to go, Paula. Great to see you.”

“How is Zoe doing? A breakup like that has a terrible and long-lasting impact on a child.”

And just like that Connie’s moment of optimism passed and she was thinking of Milly again. Worrying about Milly. And Zoe.

Long-lasting impact.

Zoe seemed to be handling everything well, but what if she wasn’t? Was there something more Connie could be doing to make her feel loved and secure?

“Milly and Zoe are both doing well.” Her lips felt stiff and dry as she responded. “My daughter is a wonderful mother.” Did she sound snappy and defensive? Yes, probably, but at this point she didn’t care.

“But having to sell their home—perfectly awful.”

Connie’s heart was pounding. “Not awful at all. They’ve moved into the boathouse, and it’s a wonderful place to live. It’s right on the water. They couldn’t be happier.”

She said the words but couldn’t stop thinking about what Zoe had said about Milly crying herself to sleep.

And now she just wanted to get home before the anxiety could tighten its grip. She didn’t have the emotional energy for a picnic, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to read a book.

“Anyway, back to the subject of the choir,” Paula said and smiled at her. “When are you coming back?”

“I’m not.” The words left Connie’s mouth without her even having to think about it. What she needed wasn’t sympathy, or reminders of everyone else’s perfect lives, or dire prophesies about how Richard’s actions might have wrecked Zoe’s future, and that was what she’d get if she went back to the choir. This was a small community. Everyone not only knew everyone else’s business but they had an opinion on it and didn’t hesitate to voice it.

There would be no escape or distraction because everyone would be asking about Milly.

Most people were well-meaning and genuinely caring (although she was starting to wonder about Paula), but if her objective was to fill her head with something else for a few hours, then choir wasn’t going to be the answer. Nor was book group or any of the other hobbies she’d enjoyed before Richard had walked out. She’d joined those groups because they were local. The convenience of proximity.

But that wasn’t what she needed or wanted.

Paula frowned. “But if Milly is doing well, why can’t you come back?”