“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Sarah said. She joined the group and handed Emory one of the glasses of wine she’d snagged on her way over. “You were my client first, remember? Don’t forget that part.” Sarah shot her a questioning look, clearly not understanding the omission.

“Really?” Christi Ann chimed in. “In what regard? As you can see, Emory never tells us anything anymore.”

“With good reason,” Emory answered icily, a plastic smile in place.

“Unfortunately, it was shortly after Emory’s mother passed away,” Sarah began. “I was hired to help prepare the house to be sold.”

“She impressed me to no end and the rest is history. I’m keeping her. What about you, Barrett, I heard you were also seeing someone. How’s that going?”

Sarah was again puzzled. She looked at Emory, who seemed incredibly eager to move on from the conversation, and it slowly began to make sense to her. Emory didn’t want her friends to know that Sarah worked for a cleaning company.

She felt the blood drain from her face and she stared, lost, into the depths of her glass.

Before Barrett could answer, Christi Ann held up a hand. “Wait, so Sarah was your realtor?”

“No,” Sarah answered, raising her head confidently. “I was her cleaning woman.” She faced Emory fully.

Emory practically flinched at the words. “Organization mainly.” She turned quickly to the group in explanation. “Sarah actually runs the reorganization branch of Immaculate Home. They do some amazing closet designs. It’s revolutionary what she’s accomplished in such a short time.”

“But back then, I worked for you, cleaning and packing up that house.” Sarah emphasized each word.

“Right. I know.” The smile slowly faded from Emory’s face and she nodded. “You’re great at everything you do.”

Silence followed and Emory felt all eyes boring into her, but her focus was elsewhere. It was clear that the way she handled the situation had upset Sarah, hurt her even, which was the opposite of what she had intended. Her instincts had failed her again.

Barrett graciously picked up the conversation and moved everyone into a teasing discussion about Emory’s new dog that Sarah only half participated in. Eventually, she excused herself to call over to Carmen’s and check on Grace.

Emory found Sarah on the deck a short time later and waited briefly for her to finish her phone call. As she clicked off, she turned to Emory. “I’m so sorry to have to do this, but Grace is allergic to cats, and I forgot to send her allergy medication that lets her be around them. I think it’d be best if I just picked her up from Carmen’s and took her home.”

“I understand. I’d go with you, but—”

Sarah looked around. “You have a house full of people.”

“Right.”

“It’s okay.”

Emory placed her hand on Sarah’s forearm. “Can we talk before you go? About in there.” She inclined her head in the direction of the party.

With the breeze from the beach lifting Sarah’s hair gently, she looked breathtaking and a little sad. “Sure.”

Because there were people nearby, Emory walked them a short distance away from the house to the water’s edge. The sunset was all but gone, but lights from the deck allowed her to see Sarah’s eyes. They seemed to be silently searching hers for some sort of answer.

“I’m sorry. About the conversation back there and how I handled it. You don’t know these girls, but I do and I just didn’t want them to rush to judgment. Mia’s the type of woman who enjoys making other people feel small and I wasn’t going to let her do that to you.”

Sarah seemed to ruminate over the information. She looked skyward before settling her gaze back on Emory with purpose. “Can I let you in on a secret?”

Emory nodded.

“I don’t think I care what people like Mia think of me anymore. Which is new, because I’ve more than cared my entire life. But I no longer feel like that kid in junior high, who just wanted to fit in, and would go to ridiculous lengths to do it. Because since you’ve come into my life, I feel like I’ve learned so much about myself. And for the first time ever, I fit.”

Emory felt that wistful lump rise up in her throat because what Sarah was saying to her was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

“So I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t need you to take care of me. But it would be nice if you could be proud to have me at your side.”

“I am proud, Sarah. You’re the best person I know. Please don’t doubt that.”

Sarah showed a touch of a smile. “See? Then that’s all I care about. And it’s time for me to start being honest about exactly who I am. With your friends. With my family.”

“Your family?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t know what to say. That’s wonderful.”

Emory felt tears touch her eyes because she was so very proud of Sarah and the strength she saw taking shape within her. Proud and so much more. The well of emotion rushing through her after listening to Sarah was unique, foreign, and undeniable on every level.

Love.

And while the realization should make her want to pull Sarah into her arms and never let her go, instead it made her hesitate. It brought to the forefront everything she knew about herself and all the ways she’d fall short of what Sarah needed. So when she did finally open her mouth to speak, what she said was not at all a reflection of what she felt so firmly within her.

Because it couldn’t be.

“It’s getting late. I’ll walk you out.” She took Sarah’s hand in hers and walked her to the front.

The night hadn’t gone as planned. But Sarah, in her unwavering goodness, had rolled with each and every punch. It was yet another testament to her character. Back when she’d made decisions about her life, she’d never planned on a Sarah. Someone who would make her redefine her definition of just about everything. But here she was, standing in her driveway, looking back at Emory with sparkling hazel eyes. And then a dark reminder flared of the promise she’d made to herself not so very long ago.

Sarah touched her cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, birthday girl.”

Emory attempted a smile.

Sarah tilted her head to the side and studied her with concern. “You okay? I can see if my father’s free to pick up Grace. I was just worried that she might—”

“I’m fine. Go take care of your daughter.”

Sarah nodded and leaned in to kiss her good-bye. Emory wrapped her arms around Sarah’s waist and kissed her back for all she was worth, memorizing the moment.

Late that night, long after all the partygoers had finally vacated her home, Emory tossed and turned, but sleep eluded her. Frustrated and looking for something to distract her overly active brain, she crawled out of bed and fumbled through her bedside table. She came across the small canvas book, the last journal. She settled in and let her mother’s words take over.

*

Normally, Sarah loved a free afternoon. She could take hold of the opportunity to organize the chaos that life as a single mother brought with it. And she did, stacking art supplies, unloading the dishwasher, sorting through all the clothes Grace had recently outgrown—all while keeping one eye on her phone.

It’d been two days since Emory’s birthday party and the four text messages and a voice mail she’d left for her had been answered with only one clipped reply.

“Busy week. Will call soon.”

But Emory hadn’t called. And something felt off.

She’d give her one more day before taking matters into her own hands. It was possible that things at the office had truly picked up, and if that was the case she wanted to show Emory she was capable of giving her space to get her job done. She wasn’t a needy person, but she did feel she was owed at least a phone call in response to her messages.

But late the next day when she still hadn’t heard anything from Emory, she arranged for her parents to keep Grace an extra hour after work.