They sat in silence for a while. A silence Annie enjoyed and that reminded her of the time before the Pink Bean had entered her life. Now that she shared the space, the book shop was never really quiet anymore. There was always someone else shuffling about, always the hum of the coffee machine or the hiss of milk being steamed in the background. Annie felt like closing her eyes and pretending, just for a moment, that it was only her in the shop. No Kristin. No Mia. Jane writing contentedly upstairs—always a comforting thought.

But times had changed and here she sat. Everything but alone. She tried to remember when she’d first allowed herself to realize that her feelings for Kristin were so intense, but it was hard to pinpoint one moment. It had been a gradual process of accumulated smiles—even though Kristin wasn’t one to smile easily—and just being near her and her soft voice and stern glance.

Annie’s thoughts were brusquely interrupted when Jane appeared at the door into the shop. She stood there for a few seconds, cast her glance over the scene and, without saying a word, turned on her heel and let the door bang shut behind her.

“Please excuse me for a minute.” Annie shot up and followed Jane, who was putting on her coat in the hallway. She zipped it up with a wild pull of her hand.

“Don’t you dare try to talk to me right now,” Jane said. “I’m going out. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I need to clear my head.”

Annie couldn’t stop herself. “Where are you go—” she started to ask.

“Just don’t, Annie.” With that, Jane stormed off, letting the front door bang loudly—the second bang in so many minutes.

She heard the bell chime in the book shop and rushed inside, hoping it wasn’t Jane wanting to give Kristin a piece of her mind.

When she entered, she recognized a woman who came in from time to time. She headed straight for the non-fiction section.

Relieved, Annie took position behind the counter. But the feeling of relief didn’t last very long, because Kristin was looking at her, eyebrows quirked up, and Jane would soon come back and then hell would break loose. The hell Annie had expected to break loose last night when Jane had confronted her about Kristin.

After the customer had left, Kristin came up to her with a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

“The other one has gone cold.” She offered Annie the cup. “And you look like you could use it. Everything all right?”

Annie looked at Kristin’s face, which showed nothing but compassion and concern—the two very last things she needed from Kristin. She wanted to reply with a snippy “Clearly not,” but Annie didn’t have any harsh words in her to direct at Kristin.