Alice thought about it. “If you’d asked me back then I’d have said yes to make you feel bad. But it’s never one thing, Libs, you know that. It was the culmination of years of wanting to be you instead of me. I was sick of being the dorky twin, the slow twin, the one who wore glasses, couldn’t run far and got picked last for T-ball. I’d worked so hard trying to be like you and I was still different and sick of it. Chuck in puberty hormones and, kaboom! Chaos.”

“God, Al, I’m sorry.”

“None of it’s your fault.”

“You sure?”

“Well …” Alice grinned. “I’m sure you owe me something for stealing all my food in the womb.”

Libby wanted to laugh and enjoy her twin’s forgiveness, but instead she felt the sting of tears. “I’m sorry for being selfish and thoughtless. I don’t deserve you, but I’m so thankful you’re here now. I couldn’t get through this without you.” She hugged Alice and took an almighty sniff, trying to head off a messy cry. “I’m sick of me and I’m sure you’re sick of me too. Let’s talk about you. How are things with Tim?”

Alice stood and turned the cardboard clock on the door to two o’clock. “Let’s go for a walk along the beach.”

“Okay, but you’re still going to tell me about Tim, right?”

“Just Tim?” Alice jogged toward the bridge and crossed the inlet.

Libby ran to catch up, realizing how badly out of shape she was after not having exercised for weeks. Panting, she caught Alice just as she got to the beach. “There’s someone else? What happened to Tim?”

Alice twirled on the hard sand, arms out wide and scattering seagulls, just like she’d done as a kid. “He vanished without a word. Then there was Finn, but I realized he was full of back-handed compliments …”

For years, Libby had smugly congratulated herself for being able to recognize the qualities that constituted a good man—someone who loved, respected and supported her—and she’d never accepted anything less. Alice, on the other hand, always seemed to give away a part of herself in every romantic relationship. Libby no longer felt smug—more chastened, humbled and embarrassed by the supercilious advice she’d dished out to her twin.

“Back-handed compliments sound like Lawrence.”

Alice grimaced at the mention of her ex. “Sadly, yes, but I’m learning. This time I recognized it so much earlier and I ditched him before we even met.”

“Good for you!”

“And I’ve stopped paying to meet men who don’t come close to being ideal. I’ve joined Bumble and Tinder.”

“The swiping apps?”