Everyone had left and Jane had poured Annie and herself one last nightcap to unwind from the excitement of the night before they went to bed.

She held up her tumbler of Amaretto. “Cheers, babe.” She wasn’t sure how she had missed it all this time. She’d had plenty of opportunities to observe Annie and Kristin together. That was why she needed this drink. She was fairly certain Annie had her own reasons. “To Annie’s Book Shop.”

Dark circles were visible underneath Annie’s eyes. She usually didn’t look her age, but she did right now.

“I can open the shop tomorrow if you want to have a lie-in,” Jane said.

“You’re too good to me.” Annie leaned against her.

“I’m your wife. Wives have a habit of being kind to each other.” She pecked Annie on the top of her head. What did the fact that she’d only noticed now say about Jane, anyway? She’d been too absorbed with her writer’s block to pick up on any of the signs.

“After twenty years together, it’s easy to slip up when it comes to kindness.” Annie sounded wistful.

Jane sipped from her drink. Should she take the liquid courage she was gathering and say something? Or was the hour too late? They were both tired. This also meant their defenses were down and a chat might be easier. Or the opposite. Jane had no idea how to deal with this situation. All she knew was that this could not remain unspoken between them for long. Because it wasn’t so much a question of her not noticing. In fact, that was not the main issue at all.

Her wife was having feelings for another woman. Something Jane understood and could not afford to be holier-than-thou about—yet this didn’t mean she wasn’t deeply unsettled by it.

“You’ve never been anything but kind to me.” Jane drank again. “When you encouraged me to keep on writing twenty years ago. Earlier this week when I told you I threw my manuscript in the trash. Every time my head is filled with self-doubt.” She paused. “Seven years ago, when you had every reason not to be kind and understanding.” The last example just came out of her mouth without Jane scrutinizing the words before she spoke them. Maybe her subconscious was eager to get this out in the open and had decided to bring up Jane’s own mistakes in order to do so.

“Christ, babe. Why are you bringing that up now? Did you think Beth Walsh was going to turn up again tonight?”

Jane shook her head. “I’m pretty certain Beth is never going to show her face here again.”

“Good.” Annie knocked back her drink and put her glass down on the table, taking a little distance from Jane.

“We can talk about it if you want,” Jane said.