“How’s it going being stoic? Being the one who lost the most important person in her life and is quietly taking it while everyone else goes about their business? I think you’re good and filthy mad, and you have no idea what to do with it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel mad. I feel sad.”

“Which is also perfectly normal. Don’t get me wrong. I admire what you did. I think you probably did the right thing in the long run by letting him go. But don’t cheat yourself out of legitimate feelings. If you feel mad, be mad. If you feel sad, be sad. There’s only one way to the other side of this, and that’s straight through it. Denying any of your feelings will only make the journey longer.”

She nodded and twisted the tissue in her hands.

“I want you to think about a change of scenery. I’m worried about a setback if you remain in the house.”

“I’ll give it some thought.”

“Talk to Maggie. She might surprise you.”

She smiled. “I doubt she’d mind staying with her dad for a while. That’s where the action is these days.”

“Think about what’s best for you right now, Clare. It’s time to take care of you.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

If being home had caused a mental setback, it did wonders for Clare’s physical health. Within a month, she was off crutches and using a cane. She still had a pronounced limp and trouble with stairs, but one day when she was home alone, she forced her unwilling legs up two flights to the top-floor suite she’d once shared with Jack. A rush of emotion hit her the moment she stepped into the room.

The big round room was empty, and she realized she’d never seen it that way before. She opened the door to what used to be Jack’s closet and wanted to weep at its gaping barrenness. Walking over to the wide span of windows that overlooked the ocean, she eased herself down to the plush carpet and remembered back to when she and Jack would hustle the girls through their bedtime routine so they could escape up here to relax together.

She gazed out at the water, wanting more than anything to go back to when her girls were small and relied on her for everything, to when Jack was hers and she still believed nothing could ever come between them.

Memories rolled through her mind like home movies, scenes from the past flashing one by one. Wallowing for a moment in the warmth of the recollections, she thought about parties they’d had on the pool deck, waking with Jack to the sound of squealing girls downstairs, holidays with their extended family. The movie ran on, and for a while, she let it.