Silent, Tilly stared down at the pendant of St. Lucy—the gift she’d passed on to Kate at their graduation. It had once been Tilly’s favourite keepsake, given to Tilly at her confirmation when she’d chosen St. Lucy as her patron saint. “I can’t accept this,” Kate had said at the time. But you have to, Kate—it’s all I have to give you.

Tilly’s brow furrowed. “I can’t accept this,” she whispered.

“Sure, you can. It’s yours.”

Tilly’s teeth sank into her bottom lip.

A flash of lightning lit the dark, morning sky. Kate wet her lips. “I was at Mum’s the other weekend and I remembered I still had it in my old trinket box.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And I know today’s her feast day, so…”

Tilly looked up, eyes wide and glossy. “I think I’m going to cry,” she whispered.

Oh, God.

Kate drew a deep breath. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I know.” She paused. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve hated this week, feeling this distance between us…I mean yesterday you spent all day in your office avoiding me, and I thought you couldn’t stand to look at me…and now you go and do something sweet like this…”

Heat rose to Kate’s cheeks, partially fogging her glasses. Tilly tipped her head back and blinked away tears, swiping hastily beneath her eyes. Quickly, Kate opened the glove box for a Kleenex.

“Thank you,” Tilly whispered as she took the tissue from Kate and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. She leaned forward and slipped the pendant back into the glove box. “You’ll keep it there for me?” she said. “Lily has an obsession with jewellery at the moment and I couldn’t stand it if the chain snapped…”

Throat growing tight, Kate nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just leave it there.” The last thing she wanted to talk about was Tilly’s future stepdaughter. “So…ten o’clock ferry tonight? Don’t worry about asking him to drop you down to the dock. I’ll swing by and pick you up on my way back from Mum’s.”

Tilly hesitated.

Kate arched a brow. “What is it?”

Tilly licked her lips. “Declan’s invited me to stay in his guest room. I’m…I’m not coming back on the ten o’clock.”

Jealousy sank in her stomach like a hot ball of lead. “Oh.”

“Sorry. I thought you would have assumed when you saw my bag…”

Kate glanced down at the larger handbag beside Tilly’s feet. A devilish pressure grew in her chest. “Right. Yeah. No. I didn’t realise.”

Their eyes locked.

What could she possibly say? Are you sure you want to do this? was too loaded, too weighted with memories of stolen glances in hotel rooms, of almost-declarations in kitchens. Her stomach rolled. “Til?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t use Hallelujah as a wedding song.”

Tilly stiffened slightly. “I—”

“That’s for us. It’s our song, okay?”

Tilly nodded. “Okay,” she whispered.

Averting her eyes, Kate inhaled deeply. “Well…I’ll be coming home on the last ferry. You have your phone.” If you need me.