Standing this close to Emilia without reaching for her physically pained her. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want . . . I didn’t want to complicate your life.”

“And I already told you that wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I know.”

Emilia pulled her hand out of Morgan’s. “Do you? Because I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”

“That’s not—”

“It is, Morgan. If you don’t trust me to make my own choices, how can I trust you to respect them, or me?”

“I respect you.”

“Then prove it.” Emilia’s mouth, normally soft and full, hardened into a thin line.

“I trust you.” Morgan could see her own reflection in the sunglasses: desperate; lost. It was time to tell Emilia the truth. She met her own eyes in the glass and said, “I didn’t trust myself.”

Emilia’s mouth softened as she waited for Morgan to continue.

“With you, I feel—” She broke off as she searched for the right words, failed to find them, and stumbled on. “I feel right. I didn’t think I would ever feel that way again after Kate. But you were going to leave. I knew that. I reminded myself every day.”

A seagull swooped low over their heads and shrieked, throwing her off. Emilia’s lips quirked in a faint smile. That smile gave her the courage to continue.

“I got so good at telling myself I was going to lose you that it scared the shit out of me when you decided to stay.”

“Morgan—”

“I ran into Kate today.”

Emilia’s face froze.

“She said you hadn’t sold the house. I was so sure you would leave after I was a dick.”

“My world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

“I fucked up so badly with her, Emilia. I didn’t see her hurting. I didn’t see anything.” She was talking too quickly now, her words rushing together. “What if I was doing the same thing with you? And if you stayed—”

She couldn’t say the rest.

“If I stayed?”

“What if you changed your mind? About me.”

There it was: the fear that had been eating at her for months. The worry that Emilia would leave her either way, no matter what she did, and the bleak comfort in the certainty of heartbreak.

“I might,” said Emilia. She took off her sunglasses and held them loosely in her hand. “And you might, too.”

“No.”

“I spread my father’s ashes today.”

Morgan’s heart stuttered. She should have been there for her. She should never have left her to grieve alone.

“People leave, Morgan. People leave, and sometimes we never get them back.”

“God, Emilia—” She took the hand that held the sunglasses and brushed her thumb across Emilia’s wrist. Emilia’s expression hardened.