I wipe away my tears and try to smile, try to do what I have the past few weeks, which is focus on the good, even when my heart says nothing can be good without Jamie in my life.

But here’s my sister, a splash of freckles on her skin and auburn streaking her hair from all that time in the sun, her threadbare clothes and banged-up body. I’ve missed her. Missing her tangles with missing Jamie. I’m a chestful of hot, sharp missing. “KitKat, have I told you you’re a sight for sore eyes?”

She narrows her eyes and sniffles suspiciously. “Knock it off, BeeBee. Don’t make me emotional.”

I hug her hard, careful of her shoulder. “I need someone to join me. All I am is emotional.”

“Why?” She pulls away, frowning at me.

Tears blur my vision as I try to hold back the need to cry. “How much do you know?”

“Nothing, beyond Mom saying your boyfriend was friends with the douche canoe who hurt Jules. So things were understandably tricky right now.”

“ ‘Tricky’ is an understatement. That douche canoe did a lot of damage. He hurt Jules. He hurt Christopher. It was awful.”

“Hmm,” she says, stabbing the casserole. “I’m sure Christopher will land on his feet.”

“One day, it would be lovely if you two shared a hemisphere not charged with electric hatred.”

“That will be in another life,” she mutters around her food. “I’d like to keep my appetite, so let’s move on. Get me up to speed about your guy.”

I tell her between sips of coffee and nose blows. Then I slump over the counter, thumping my forehead against it. “I’m so screwed and stuck and confused. I don’t know when Jules will be past this, and until then, there’s no way Jamie and I can be together. But . . . I miss him so much.”

Kate frowns thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s a shitty corner to be backed into. But I will say, I don’t like how he walked out on you. He shouldn’t have turned a break into a breakup.”

I shake my head. “No, he had a point, and I didn’t recognize that. I got defensive and—”

“Lost your cool,” she finishes for me. “I can see that.”

I glare up at her. “First of all, look in the mirror, Miss Hothead.”

Kate scoffs.

“I didn’t say it gently. He’s been through a bad breakup, KitKat, with someone who made him feel . . . disposable. Telling him he’d have to take a number and wait to hear from me, I made him feel that way all over again.”

She grimaces. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. I messed up,” I whisper through tears. “I’ve wanted to call him a hundred times, but it seems so pointless to say, Hey, sorry I treated you that way, but I’m still going to ask you to be on standby for now.”