The shop had been saved. It was doing better than it had in years. But at what cost?

One customer lounged at a table with a cup of coffee. Jane kept her eye on the woman and, meanwhile, tried to work up the nerve to confront Kristin after the customer left. Even though Kristin had done absolutely nothing wrong. Still, Jane felt as though she needed to step up, defend something, take action. She already felt so powerless, her future so out of her own control. She couldn’t write and with one twist of fate—if Kristin suddenly realized, after Annie’s confession, that she’d been harboring some unexpressed desire as well—her marriage could be over. Jane had everything to fight for.

After the customer left, before Jane was able to gather the courage to even walk in Kristin’s direction, Kristin came up to her.

“I must be persona non grata in your world right now.” Kristin’s voice was smoother than usual. “And I want to respect your probably not-so-favorable feelings toward me, but I also want you to know that I respect your and Annie’s relationship. I will not come between you and your wife, Jane. I would never do that. I’m not that person.”

Of course Annie had to go and fall for a highly principled woman with morals strong as steel. A fact for which Jane was glad, even though now she was the one doing the comparing. It painted her dalliance with Beth in a much harsher light—because it wasn’t nearly as innocent as Annie’s crush was proving to be.

A tear pricked behind Jane’s eye. What was she supposed to say to that? Thank you? “I appreciate that,” she managed.

“After today, you probably won’t see me for a while. I hope things work out for you. Actually, I’m sure they will. You and Annie make such a wonderful couple. Any fool can see that.”

Jane had no choice but to be graceful about Kristin’s approach now that she was wishing her and Annie nothing but the best.

“Thanks.” Saying it out loud wasn’t so bad after all, but it still stung to have to thank Kristin.

Chapter Twenty-One

That night, Annie found herself trying to get some sleep in the couch. Her bones suddenly felt too old to not be supported by a sturdy mattress. But, in all of this, on the surface at the very least, she was the one at fault and she was the one being punished for it. Even though Annie didn’t know what more she could possibly do. All that could assuage Jane’s anger toward her now, she knew from experience, was the passage of time. Annie tossing and turning on a couch that wasn’t meant for sleeping. And she didn’t even have some new material from Jane to keep her company in the lonely hours of the night.