If she were staying for good, she might’ve asked to be trained to help him in his work. But he didn’t mean for her to lay her head there permanently. And she’d been in earnest three years earlier when she’d said she couldn’t bear to stay if her love for him was truly one-sided. She couldn’t put herself through such torture again. The situation hadn’t changed, no matter that he’d written to her asking her to return. She needed to be moving along. But setting up somewhere else required coin, and she didn’t have any.

“Is there anything in particular you’re hoping to do?” he asked.

“I’ll do any work that’s respectable, provided it ain’t in Southwark. I’d rather not cross paths with any of my family.”

“That is understandable.” He set his hand on hers. “Móirín Donnelly and Stone both work all over London. They’ve likely heard of openings.”

“A good idea, that.” She wove her fingers through his, allowing herself to enjoy the touch despite knowing it weren’t being offered romantically. Thick as Tewksbury mustard. “I can drop in on Móirín and see what she knows.”

“The two of you seemed to enjoy harassing me at the CALL effort.”

Gemma bumped his shoulder with hers. “You’re terrible fun to tease, Baz. When I lived here before, if you got proper flustered, your East End side would tiptoe out a bit.”

The tiniest smile tugged at his lips. “It did?”

She nodded. “I enjoyed hearing it. Felt like getting a peek at you back before I knew you.”

“I told you about my life before we met.”

She squeezed his fingers. “I know, and it meant heaps to me that you trusted me enough to share it. I easily twigged you don’t usually talk about your past.”

“I thought you could understand the heaviness of having a difficult childhood.”

“It’s a crushing weight at times, i’n’it?”

He patted her hand. “The danger’s behind you now. I’m grateful for that.”

“So am I.”

Baz rose and took up his candle. “If Móirín doesn’t have a job idea for you, let me know. I’ll send word to Stone. He’ll know of something.”

With that, he stepped out.

Her Baz could be so tender and sweet. But, oh, how easily he broke her heart. She could stay in this house where she’d been happy, but would staying make things better or worse? Ought she try to deepen the connection between them as she had during the last months she’d lived there? Or would she be wiser to find satisfaction in the simple friendship he offered?

Sometimes life’s questions didn’t have any good or easy answers.