It had been a long, ugly day. It started around 4 a.m. with a nightmare that hadn’t plagued her in weeks. Glenn chasing her. She was in a dark, unfamiliar house, and every door she tried was locked. She’d terrified herself awake and had been unable to get back to sleep. Her therapist had warned that there would be setbacks along the way. But after months of happiness, of a consistent sense of security, Harper and Luke’s breakup and the ensuing nightmare left her feeling queasy and unsettled.

So she’d gone into work early and promptly screwed up an order that may or may not have ruined a bridal shower. She rounded out the day with a visit to see Harper.

“I’ve had my arm and ribs broken in foster care,” Harper had said. “This hurts more.”

Seeing her friend gaunt and pale with circles the size of hubcaps under her eyes had been her undoing. Gloria had cried in her car for twenty minutes before making the short drive to Aldo’s house. It hadn’t been the cleansing tears that arrived unprovoked in the early weeks after leaving Glenn. No, this was grief.

“Hey, Glo! I know declawing is inhumane, but what about detoothing?” Aldo called from the kitchen.

She was supposed to laugh but didn’t have it in her. She didn’t have anything in her.

With a feeling of detachment, she glanced around the living room. They’d been progressing without her really noticing it. Painting her color choice on the walls, stocking the kitchen with her favorite cookware, rearranging the dining room furniture.

Aldo was making space for her here. He was trusting her to be a good, healthy partner. Believing that she could overcome her past.

And there he was, greeting her with a glass of wine and a kiss. She turned her head at the last second, so his lips landed on the corner of her mouth.

She felt…defeated. As much as she’d tried to ignore Luke’s words, his prophesy that there were no happy endings for the broken, she couldn’t stop hearing them.

“How was Harper?” Aldo asked, taking her coat and bag, hanging both in the closet but not before getting her phone out and setting it on the charging station on the console table they’d picked out together.

Gloria took a sip of wine and tasted bitterness. “Not good.”

Aldo swore quietly. “What does she need?”

Gloria shook her head and sank down on the couch.

Harper loved Luke. She’d trusted him with her heart, her scars. And look where that had gotten her. Alone. With a broken heart.

“I don’t know.”

Aldo sat next to her, absentmindedly stroked a hand over her hair. “I’m going to have to kick his ass.”

“You can’t make him love her. He said it himself. He’s not capable of loving anyone after Karen.”