Maddie gave her a level stare and, not replying, left the room. After a few more seconds of warm covers, she climbed out, grabbing Maddie’s enormous green flannel robe. It smelled vaguely of her—vanilla and warmth—and she inhaled deeply before tying it on. She glanced around the tidy, tiny room, wondering if there were any slippers she could use. Maddie’s cowboy hat had been set on top of her dresser, and a sliver of delight ran through her at the sight. Last night, briefly, Maddie had worn that hat and nothing else.

She walked out of the bedroom and into a long but narrow midcentury-style living room with a loveseat, a recliner, a very small TV, a fireplace, and walls packed with bookshelves. An orange cat lay curled up on the recliner. It lifted its head, blinked at her a few times, and then lay down again, as if dismissing her, apparently to sleep some more. Small models of sculptures sat on the side tables and between some of the books—Maddie’s working models, she realized.

She paused, taking in the room, a funny, squeezing pressure in her chest. She could picture herself here quite easily in some distant future, the morning sunlight filtering in just as it was doing now, a book in one hand, coffee in the other, that little cat in her lap, Maddie coming in with a refill so they could plan their Sunday afternoon together. The fantasy was so vivid, she could almost feel the texture of warm fur on her bare legs, the pages of the book in her hand.

“Do you want to eat out there?” Maddie called. “I usually do.”

“Sure!”

She followed Maddie’s voice, coming from the right, into a gorgeous, petite kitchen. This room clearly had its original, early twentieth-century layout, but the cabinets, countertops, and appliances had been replaced. The wood floor was a little worn, but everything else was pristine. To her right was a small countertop with two stools pushed under it—a kind of mini eating space. A set of copper pans hung near the oven.

Maddie had her back to her, standing in front of the stove, her broad shoulders flexing under a tight red T-shirt as she flipped pancakes. Stuart had given everyone specific shirts to wear today, and when Maddie turned, Ryann read “Maid of Honor” in bold text across the chest.

“Like what you see?” Maddie asked.

She nodded, unable to speak. Maddie grinned wider, turned to shut off the burner, and then walked across the room to kiss her gently several times before hugging her into the warmth of her chest.

“How do you like my place?” Maddie asked, moving back to the food.

“It’s lovely.”

“Not too small?”

“Not at all. I like smaller places. And it’s really gorgeous. You’ve clearly done a lot of work on it.”