How could it not matter what the truth was? I didn’t fully understand what she meant by that. And there was something else . . . I wasn’t convinced Sylvia was talking only about Whitney here. She was scared too. Maybe hearing all of her daughter’s fears out loud had opened up the wound on her heart.

But I couldn’t help her heal if she wouldn’t let me.

“Tell me what to do, Sylvia. I feel terrible.”

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t. None of this was your fault. I should apologize to you—I led you to believe something more between us was possible, but . . . it isn’t, Henry. And I’m sorry.” A sob escaped her. Then another, and another. “I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t stand it. Dropping the shears at my feet, I gathered her in my arms and held her, letting her cry on my shoulder. Feeling her body shudder with sadness was agony, but at least I didn’t feel so helpless. Comforting her gave me a purpose. “It’s okay. Shhh, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she wept. “I behaved terribly, coming after you like that. And I promised myself I wouldn’t embarrass myself by breaking down this way, yet here I am.”

“You didn’t behave terribly—I was a very willing participant. I won’t lie and say I’m not upset, but your kids are more important, Sylvia. If I had children, you bet your ass in a sequined skirt I’d put them first too.” I forced myself to make a joke, hoping it might make her smile.

She laughed a little, pulling back from me and wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. God, I’m so sick of crying. It feels like that’s all I’ve done for a year.”

“So let’s do something else,” I blurted, thinking fast. “Want me to put you to work?”

She gave me a shaky smile and sniffed. “Here? In the vineyard?”

“Sure. Or in the tasting room. Whatever you want.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me around anymore.”

“Well, you were wrong. I offered to teach you about the way we make wine, and the offer stands.” I knew it would only make it harder to shut down my feelings for her if she was around all the time, but if it cheered her up, it was worth it.

“It does? Even though we can’t—” She stopped talking and pounded one mitten into the other.

I had to laugh. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you if you ever want to take your clothes off, but yes. Even though we’re only going to be friends, I’ll still teach you what you want to know. I’m not a total asshole.”