It’s her. The woman at the Edgy Envelope has to be his ex. How many women look like Jamie’s ex from behind and are cardiothoracic surgeons? That explains why she looked at me weird. She must have recognized me from Boulangerie.

“Bea, what’s going on?” Jules asks.

I blink, leaving my thoughts as I force a smile. “Nothing. Thanks. Just curious.”

She steps closer. “Are you sure—”

“Jules!” someone calls. “The oven’s going off.”

My sister sighs.

“It’s okay, JuJu. I’m fine. Go be hostess.”

“Don’t go far,” she says, taking my near-empty glass. “I’ll be back with more sangria.”

As soon as she steps away, I see Jamie at the end of the hall, shutting the door to my room quietly behind him. My heart drops in a bungee jump free fall, begging the line of trust to snap and save me. But right now it’s only gravitational fear dragging me down, whistling-air dread drowning out all other sounds.

He glances up and, when he sees me, smiles a real Jamie smile, eyes holding mine as he closes the distance between us. I watch his mouth form the word Hello. I stare up at him, wordless, as he lifts my messenger bag off my shoulder and sets it on his.

“Bea,” he says, gently wrapping his hand around my back and guiding me in, away from the door. “What is it?”

Margo curses at the stroller as she steps behind me into the apartment. “Ever seen her just stand there in a doorway and gape at someone like that?”

“No,” Sula says, releasing their daughter, Rowan, to Jules, then taking over and smoothly collapsing the stroller. “But it’s very reminiscent of how you looked when you first met me.”

“I did not gape,” Margo says tartly.

Sula snorts as she stashes the stroller against the wall of coats. “Sure, okay. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone.”

Once they’ve escaped for drinks and food, Toni and Hamza follow, hanging up their coats, then slipping by, too.

Jamie stares down at me, hand still on my back. “Are you all right?”

My breath catches in my throat, a watery hitch that means tears are coming. “I’m not sure.”

“What’s the matter?” The concern etched in his expression makes the ache even worse.

“I . . .” My eyes blur with tears.

“Bea.” Jamie pulls me against him, a hard hug I didn’t know how badly I needed. His strong arms wrap around me, one hand cradling my head. Gently, his fingers slip through my hair, a comforting touch that makes the first tears spill over.

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice low and warm next to my ear. “Want to go somewhere quiet?”