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And for the first time since I’d walked into her apartment, the corners of her mouth twitched, and a brief glimmer of her playful personality returned before disappearing again.

I reached for her hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles, taking her in. She looked exhausted. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her full bottom lip was slightly cracked.

“How you doing, baby?”

Her eyes misted, and my heart clutched in my chest when she choked the words out.

“I don’t know, Hart.”

I nodded, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. “Fair enough.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I remembered the container I’d brought. “I got you something. And before you get excited, it’s not jewelry. Although, technically, I got you some of that, too, but your gift is at the condo.” I popped the lid off the container. “I made you cookies.”

Her gaze dropped to the container. “You made… me cookies?”

“Peanut butter,” I confirmed, handing her the container. She accepted it and stared at the cookies for a few more seconds before selecting one. She took a bite, and I watched her chew, waiting for any sign she loved them. “Good?”

She nodded and took another bite. “Hart,” she mumbled around the cookie. “This is the best peanut cookie I’ve ever had.”

I grinned, thoroughly pleased with myself. But… she wasn’t smiling anymore.

Her gaze dropped to the cookie in her hand, and something in her expression changed.

“Sugar?”

She shook her head, and my smile disappeared when her eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She pressed her lips together, but it didn’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. “Fuck,” she whispered, laughing weakly as she wiped her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“It’s just…” She looked down at the cookie again. “My mom used to make peanut butter cookies.”

I stroked her thigh over the comforter. “I remember you telling me she was pretty bad at it.”

She laughed through her tears and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her Summit University sweatshirt. “They were really fucking bad.”

“Sand cookies… I remember.”

“I-I-I…” The words caught in her throat as fat tears rolled down her face.

“Take your time, baby.”

“I-I’d fucking give anything to eat one of her cookies again,” she proclaimed, words breaking on a wail.

I reached out and was surprised when she came willingly, crawling into my lap and burying her face against my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. Ten minutes passed before her sobs died down to aggressive hiccups. We eventually lay down, and I rubbed her back until she was ready to speak again.

“I miss her,” she whispered.

“I know, Sugar.”

“I killed her,” she whispered.

“Shhhh. You did not.”

“I did. I told her… I told her she was a bad mother, and that the only reason she didn’t support me was because her music career failed.”