“I had a showing up the road, and I was too hungry to wait.” Kate flashed her an apologetic smile.

“The Russo place?”

“Russo?” Kate wrinkled her forehead.

“On Pleasant Street.”

“Oh.” Her face cleared. “No, she decided she didn’t want to sell. I’m not surprised, honestly. It’s a great property. Do you know her?”

“I knew her dad.” Talking about Emilia with her ex was not how she wanted this—or any other day—to end. “What do you mean she’s not selling?”

“I guess she could have gone with a different agent, but I haven’t seen the house on any listing sites. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m . . .” The world went in and out of focus as she struggled to comprehend Kate’s words. Emilia wasn’t selling. “Is she renting?”

“I don’t think so.” Concern laced Kate’s voice. “I’ve been keeping an eye on it. I have a few clients who I think would love it. So far, nothing.”

Emilia hadn’t changed her mind about staying then, even with Morgan out of the picture. She was still here. The lights of the grocery store seemed overly bright suddenly, and the shelves swayed in the corners of her vision. She had been so sure Emilia would leave.

It still didn’t change anything.

“Morgan?”

“Tell me something,” Morgan said, gripping her cart to keep herself upright. “Why did you break things off?”

“Morgan—”

“I need to know.”

“We’ve been over this.” Kate’s expression of sympathy was hardening into a defensive mask.

“This isn’t about us. Just please tell me, okay?” Her breath caught oddly in her throat, like someone had let air out of her lungs and she couldn’t replenish it quickly enough.

Kate crossed her arms over her chest and spoke in a strained, raw tone. “It wasn’t easy. You know that. I just needed someone who was around more, and you deserve someone who understands your work and what it means to you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner you weren’t happy?”

Kate bit her lip. “What was I going to do? Ask you to leave your job?”

“I could have tried—” Morgan broke off the rest of her sentence as a man pushing a toddler in a cart paused at a nearby shelf.

“I didn’t want to be the person who made you miserable. I care about you too much.”

“There isn’t something wrong with me?” The question leaked out of her, poisonous, pathetic.

Kate’s mouth opened in shock. “Of course not. Is that—that’s not what you’ve been thinking, is it?”