Lucas watched Kate snap her phone shut. Maybe he should’ve left when he heard the gravity in her voice, but he couldn’t. Like a pedestrian gawking at a car accident, he’d watched Kate receive the news. When he realized what Bryan was saying, he’d wanted to hunt the man down and pummel him until he felt the same pain as Kate. Instead he’d ushered Kate to the chair, wishing he could pull her into his arms and tell her it was going to be okay.

But that was the last thing she wanted.

Now she faced the wall, unmoving. Her glossy black hair hung straight, almost to her wilted shoulders. He’d never seen her so motionless. She was always on the go, steady as a clock; he’d been mesmerized by that the first time they’d met. Now, her stillness seemed unnatural.

He took a step toward her. “Kate?”

She must have forgotten about him, because she jumped slightly, then ran her hand across her face before turning partway. Her hair, always tucked behind her ears, had come loose. Her eyes only made it to his knees.

“Lucas.” She studied the floor as if the paint and varnish stains were one of those abstract paintings to be interpreted. “I guess you heard.”

Her voice was small. But he watched her straighten her back and turn to look fully at him. A scared little girl in a woman’s body. Her eyes went past him to the gazebo for a second before flittering back.

“I . . . I guess I won’t be needing that. I’ll pay you for it, though. It’s really beautiful.” Her voice choked on the last word.

“I’m not worried about that.”

He half expected her to cave in then, but instead she shot to her feet and began to pace, her heels clicking across the floor. “I have to think,” she muttered. “I have to think.”

Ka-clack, ka-clack, ka-clack, spin. Ka-clack, ka-clack, ka-clack, spin.

Lucas wasn’t sure what she meant. Was she trying to figure out how to win Bryan back? Or giving up—making a mental list of everyone to be notified. He couldn’t imagine the mess.

But if anyone could wrap her hands around the task, Kate could. He’d watched her patch up marriages that were dangling by a thread, juggle her syndicated column with her counseling service, and write a book in her spare time. Kate was an incredible woman. Bryan was an idiot if he couldn’t see what he had.

Kate jerked to a stop and pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “He left me. I have no groom. The newspapers, the media, my publisher. My career. It’s over.”