He gives his head a little shake. “You’re not your mother, June. Just because you look like her and are from her doesn’t mean you are her.”

“What if I look like her, am from her, and have committed the same crimes as her?”

He pushes himself back up into a sitting position. “I’m really not following.”

I look at Ezra, right into his wide, open, trusting eyes, and suddenly all I want to do is confess. To unburden myself of it all. “I had an affair.” The words almost get stuck, and I have to clear my throat. “Affairs, actually. I’m the reason my marriage ended. Just like my mother is the reason that her marriage ended.” I have to look away from the surprise in his eyes, because I’m pretty sure it will be replaced with loathing in a matter of seconds.

“Okay,” he says slowly, and I can almost hear the wheels turning as he processes what I’ve just told him. “It still doesn’t make you your mother,” he finally says.

I look down at the dress I’m wearing and think of the black bra and underwear and have never felt more like my mother. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

He shakes his head, then reaches out and gives my knee a squeeze. “Of course not. We all do things in life we regret. Mistakes we wish we could take back” His eyes shift away, and for a split second I get the sense that a secret is sitting somewhere in there. “My philosophy is that if you learn from the mistake, then it’s not really a mistake anymore.” His eyes meet mine again. “And you learned from it, right?”

The hopefulness in his voice makes me cringe. “Oh, I learned from it all right. Self-sabotage and fear of commitment are just a couple of my issues.” Ezra pulls his hand away in mock disgust. And once again manages to make me laugh when I feel anything but happy on the inside.

“Well, then we’re good,” he says. “Forty-year-old virgin living with his mom and forty-year-old divorcée afraid of commitment living alone on an island. Wasn’t that how you described us?” I wince at the memory of my bluntness the first night we saw each other.

He gets up off the blanket and holds out his hand. “Come here.” I take it, and he pulls me up beside him and then leads me to the wall of windows. Outside the sun has started to set and the sky is tinted with thick bands of color—red, orange, and purple. We stand there in silence for a while, holding hands, staring out at the calm lake and kaleidoscope sky.