Katherine gave her an understanding smile. “I’ve worked with quite a few clients in your situation. It isn’t easy. One of my other listings is for a man whose father recently passed, too.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Maine’s aging population makes it inevitable, and I enjoy helping where I can. This isn’t the kind of thing anyone should have to deal with on their own.”

Emilia did not point out that it also wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to face with the help of her lover’s ex-fiancé.

“This looks like a new coat of paint.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve done a nice job. It’s hard, especially when you have so many decisions to make regarding what to keep.”

“My father had a thing for taxidermy,” Emilia said.

“Did he hunt?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s normal for Maine. I had a listing last year for a man who collected watches. The house was full of them. I could barely show the house there were so many. Anyway, I appreciate the legwork you’ve done here. Shall we look around?”

Emilia followed Katherine from room to room, answering questions and trying to do her best to stay calm. Talking about showing the house was terrifying enough without having to stare at Katherine’s perfect ass and picture Morgan—nope, don’t go there. Katherine made notes as they covered the downstairs, then ascended the staircase. Emilia dug her nails into her thighs and pinched herself.

Katherine inspected her father’s room, first. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She wanted to push the woman out of the way and slam the door before she could say anything. This had been a mistake. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready.

“Sometimes it is good to leave the master suite untouched,” Katherine said, and Emilia realized she was being watched. “It gives prospective buyers a place for a personal touch, and you’ve done a wonderful job with the rest of the house. Have you had an appraisal yet?”

“Not yet.” She could barely breathe.

“That would be the next step if you decide to list. An inspection, too—that way there are no surprises.”

“Surprises?” She’d had enough of those already.

“Like a failing septic.”

Things are already shitty enough.

“I—”

“This is a lot of information, I know. Why don’t I meet you back downstairs?”

Emilia fled.

Back in the kitchen, alone with her dog, she rested her forehead against the fridge and held on to the sides of the appliance. Nausea wracked her body. She wanted to call Morgan, craving her stability, but that wasn’t possible with Katherine in the house. The idea of other people poking around her father’s life was intolerable.

A warm hand touched her arm. She blinked into Katherine’s hazel eyes and flinched.

“Can I pour you a glass of wine? A cup of tea?”