“I do have feelings for you,” she cried. “And I wish they’d stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re never going to want the same things I want.” Her voice broke.

“I do,” he said, taking a step closer.

Linnea took a step away.

John put up his hands, as though steadying a wild horse about to bolt. “I’m ready,” he said. “Linnea, I swear, I’m full-on ready to take it all on. I want to commit to you. Commit it all. My love. My life. Every day I have left on earth, I want to spend with you.”

Linnea put her hand over her mouth and shook her head.

“Don’t choose him, Linnea.” He pounded his fist over his heart. “Choose me.”

Linnea stared at John, at the water dripping down his face, his green eyes catching the light from the streetlamp. John’s eyes were wet, and she couldn’t tell if it was the mist or tears.

“I can’t,” she choked out.

She turned on her heel and hurried across the street toward the warm lights spilling out of her beach house. Behind her she heard John call, “Linnea!”

LINNEA RAN UP the front stairs into the house, tears flowing, soaked to the skin. She pushed open the door and stood gathering her wits, dripping on the floor. Anna and Cooper looked up from the sofa. Gordon rushed from his chair to her side. He took hold of her hands.

“Your hands are like ice.”

Cooper was at her side. “Is it Flo?”

Linnea tried to catch her breath. “She… she’s home.”

“Thank God,” said Cooper.

“She’s not well.”

Gordon held her close. She knew he misunderstood her tears. He thought she was broken up about Flo.

“It’s all right,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Flo’s in good hands now. She’s safe. That’s all we can do for the moment. But you—let’s get you into some dry clothes.”

Pandora stepped from the kitchen. “I’ll make you a cup of hot tea.”

The door burst open again, and John rushed in. Like Linnea, his hair was dripping water and his clothes were drenched, and he was dragging a wet wool blanket at his feet.

Pandora rushed back into the room carrying a teakettle.

John stood wide-legged, breathing heavily, and looked around the room, momentarily fazed by seeing the group staring at him in curiosity. Then he focused on Linnea, in Gordon’s arms, and a spark of jealousy flared in his eyes. He dropped the blanket, took a step forward, and grabbed Linnea’s hand, pulling her from Gordon’s arms.

“We’re not finished yet,” he told Linnea.

Gordon pushed John’s chest, shoving him a few steps back. “Don’t touch her.”

“Fuck this.” John came charging at Gordon like a bull, hitting him in the chest and pushing him clear across the front hall, crashing into the small Hepplewhite table and sending the mirror on the wall crashing to the floor. The women screamed and they all retreated a step as Gordon and John kept throwing punches.