worry about her, but she didn’t get the words out before Jenny
sidled up to the island where Claire was working. She put her
hands on the surface and leaned in, inspecting the dough
Claire was letting rise off to the side. She raised a brow.
“I never should have told you to let her go. I was worried
about you, but it wasn’t for me to say. I wasn’t trying to give
you orders. I was trying to make things better, not worse. I’m
sorry.”
Claire gave a watery smile. She didn’t like being so
transparent. When had that happened? Before she was a wall,
and now she was a window where anyone could look inside
her. It was horrible. “I’m fine.”
“But you’re cooking.”
“Baking, actually.”
“Baking. Whatever. You don’t do that. You hate doing that.
Because it reminds you of all the bullshit.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“You’re doing it because you miss her. You haven’t been
sleeping. You haven’t been eating.”
“I know that too.” She glanced at the bowls. “Maybe I’m
here because I was hungry.”
Jenny snorted at that. “I don’t think so.”
Claire looked up and met the other woman’s gaze. How was
it possible that Jenny looked so pretty and refreshed even in
the middle of the night? She imagined that, in turn, Jenny was
looking at a haggard ghost who was on the verge of losing
everything.
I think I’ve already lost it. I let her go.
“What are you making?” Jenny’s deft change of subject
came at exactly the right time.