“Hey, Jack.” She went and peered down at her brother. “Are the tables getting wobbly again?”

“Yeah, I spotted a few that are bugging me.”

“Didn’t you fix a bunch of them last month?” she asked. “It’s so weird how they keep getting lopsided. Does the floor snack on some of the legs? The least they could do is eat them evenly.”

He stopped fiddling with the legs of the troublesome table and looked up at her. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you hanging around here? You usually couldn’t care less about broken chairs and lopsided tables.”

“Well, the past me used to be an inconsiderate creature. Now I’ve changed, and want to offer my help.”

“You’re being so nice.” Jack got to his feet, dusting off his hands. “Why are you being so nice?”

“What are you talking about?” Tara clapped a hand to her chest, genuinely indignant. “I am nice.”

“You’re good and kind.” Her brother’s words appeased her a bit, but he kept talking. “But you aren’t particularly nice. Not all the time.”

“I take offense to that.” She narrowed her eyes. It felt kind of good to be angry, so she let it burn.

“You’re someone who knows your mind and aren’t afraid to speak it. You never do something just for the sake of being nice.” He lifted his hands as though to ward her off when she snarled at him. “For example, if I was struggling with these table legs, you would’ve offered your help without hesitation. But you know I enjoy fiddling with woodwork, so you usually leave me to it. You only offered to help this time because you were being nice.”

“Fine. You could’ve just told me you don’t need help. I don’t know what the big deal is.” Tara looked everywhere but at him. Something about this conversation was making her really nervous.

“Tell me what’s going on, Tara. It’s as though you’ve been trying to pay penance for something these last few weeks.” Jack laid a big warm hand on her shoulder. “We know that there is something seriously wrong, but have no idea what. We’re all worried—Mom, Dad … all of us. Please. Let us help you, or at least bear some of the burden with you.”

Paying penance. Oh, God. He was right. Her guilt was making her find ways to make up for what she did to Seth by helping others. But how did that help Seth? She was such a mess.

“It’s a long story, but here’s the short version. I fell in love with Seth, but when he told me he loved me, I told him that I didn’t love him and never would. So he flew away to Paris with a broken heart, thinking I don’t love him.”

“Why the hell would you tell him that when you love him?”

“I was afraid. I was afraid we would end up hurting each other in the end, and I didn’t want to risk that.”