“I can’t,” she heard herself say. She’d told herself she needed to keep her distance from Emilia to protect Emilia. Now, the shell of that lie had cracked, and she stared at the shriveled, cowardly thing inside and knew she didn’t have the strength to watch it get crushed again.

“You can’t what?” Emilia said, stricken.

“I can’t do this.”

I love you, she’d said, a harpoon to her chest, hooking her sternum and full of deadly promise. Kate had loved her once too, and Kate had left. She could not survive a second time. Not when what she felt for Emilia so fully transcended what she had felt for Kate, whom she’d been ready to commit the rest of her life to.

What would she lose to this woman?

“Morgan—”

“Good luck with everything, Emilia.” She turned, pulling her shirt on backward and abandoning her bra entirely, and grabbed her keys. She heard Emilia stand behind her. Not waiting to hear what else she had to say, Morgan fumbled with the latch on the door and ran into the night air. The truck started up with a growl that covered her scream. As she backed out of the drive, she saw Emilia silhouetted in the doorway. The image seared itself into her retinas, and she knew she’d see it every time she blinked. That didn’t change anything.

Some things couldn’t be changed.

•   •   •

Morgan didn’t answer her phone. Not that night, nor the next, and by the third day Emilia stopped trying. Everything had gone wrong. She forced herself out of bed each morning, but without Morgan to look forward to her days lacked structure. The house was finished. The gardens were in check. There was only so far or so fast she could run on her morning jogs, and going to the dock felt too much like seeking Morgan out. She avoided her boat for that first week, and instead of sailing drifted around the empty house while her dog watched her out of worried eyes. Sometimes she went back to bed, lying in a half-sleep for hours at a time. This wasn’t anything new. Sleeping was what her brain did when it snapped. Some people drank. Others raged. She slept.

Her phone buzzed periodically. Anna Maria, or her mother, or an email. Never Morgan. She gave brief answers when needed, unwilling to let on that, once again, she’d made a crippling mistake.

Morgan hadn’t given an explanation for her sudden departure, but Emilia wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the flash of betrayal in Morgan’s eyes when she picked up Kate’s card.