“Oh, Brett.”

He stepped closer to her but for once didn’t try to kiss her or touch her, or call her a pet name. “But you know what else I’m relieved about?” he continued. “That it wasn’t really you the other day. Because what would break my heart would be to not have you in my life at all, Cassandra Goodwin. You don’t spend more than a decade with someone and then forget them, just like that.”

“No,” Cass said, her eyes shining with tears now. “You certainly don’t.”

“So . . .” He stepped back again and held out his hand. “Friends? Shake on it?”

Cass laughed. “This is not a real estate deal!”

She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him for a hug. He did the same. It wasn’t like it was with Miguel; no sparks flew, and she felt no urge to stay there forever. But it felt good, it felt right. And it felt final.

Eventually, she pulled away. “Speaking of real estate, we need to talk . . .”

• • •

By the time Cass left Brett, the sun was high in the sky and struggling to shine through the thick blanket of snow clouds gathering over the town. They looked swollen, ready to unload. But Cass had seen enough of these mountain snowstorms to know she still had a bit of time. She headed along Main, then turned onto Cornelia Street, which was where Sharon lived. Cass rang Sharon’s doorbell.

“Cass, what are you doing here?” Sharon said, her tone icy. Cass wondered how many bridges Charlie had burned while she was away.

“Do you mind if I come in for a minute?” she asked.

It didn’t take long to tell the tale of the swap, but Sharon didn’t appear moved.

“I can’t believe you two are still doing stuff like this,” Sharon said. “I wish our high school friends were here to witness this. Some things never change, I guess.”

Cass was sure they never had any friends in common but pushed along to more important things. “We’ve learned our lesson this time. And I’m sorry if there were any misunderstandings while I was gone. But please know, Charlie and I have had a lot going on this past little while. I hear you have, too. That’s kind of why I’m here. Apparently, you’re starting a dog biscuit business? And you’ve got a plan to bake dog biscuits using sourdough? I was over at Brett’s just now, and he told me word on the street is you’ve even got your own starter.”

Sharon’s expression changed from guarded to proud. She jumped up from the table and opened her fridge, revealing trays and trays of dog biscuits. “I am. The company is called Top Dog, and now that I’ve got my own starter going, let me tell you, the biscuits are going to get even better than they already are. I’m sure Jake told you his Bonnie already loves my Turmeric Treats.”