She spent the rest of the evening on autopilot, finding the energy for more raffle drawings and a speech at the end of the night to thank everyone for coming and their generous donations. She was grateful she had prepared well for it, otherwise she knew she would have bombed. Guests started trickling out once her speech ended. Several people made a point to tell her how wonderful the night was. The praise was great to hear, but it never rivaled the unending thought running through her mind. I wasn’t important enough to her.

Once the last guests had left, Gwen and Reagan stood in the empty space in silence. Reagan was tired. Tired from the planning. Tired of the socializing. Tired that she couldn’t depend on the one person she wanted.

She cleared her throat as she stared out the front windows. “You okay with calling it a night? I just want to get home. I can come in tomorrow and clean up.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks,” she rasped.

“Did she have a good reason?” Gwen asked, her voice hard.

Did she? Jill knew the importance of the night. She’d seen Reagan’s stress from planning and her breakdowns from grief. Reagan couldn’t think of a single excuse that would make everything all right. She turned away as tears filled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sight of Jill’s car hit Reagan like a punch to the gut. She pulled into her parking spot and shut off her car, staring past the steering wheel as she tried to gather her thoughts. She leaned against the headrest and took a few breaths, tamping down the anger that threatened to bubble over. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and threw it over her shoulder as she got out. When she made it to the top of the stairs, she found Jill sitting in one of her deck chairs.

She slowly rose and stuffed her hands into the pocket of her coat. “Reagan—”

“Don’t.” Reagan stopped her in a clipped tone as she unlocked her door and stepped inside. She really wanted to slam the door in Jill’s face, but she gripped the knob instead as she held it open.

“Can I come in?” Jill asked in a low rasp.

Reagan clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to let Jill say what she had to say right in the doorway. But she couldn’t be that heartless. “Fine. It’s freezing out.” She turned on a lamp by the couch and tossed her bag on the island. After taking off her coat and hanging it on a stool, she held on to the edge of the counter as she closed her eyes and counted to ten, hoping to calm herself.