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I didn’t laugh.

“What’s wrong?” Owen scanned my face. “Why were you crying?”

“I wasn’t.”

He was quiet a moment. “I would imagine uprooting your entire life and being thrown into parenting two kids is tough. I’m here if you want to talk. But I won’t push.” He held out the brown paper bag. “You can enjoy the pie by yourself in peace.”

“Thanks, Owen. It was really thoughtful of you.”

“No problem. You have a good night.”

He turned to leave, and I started to close the door. But I could really use someone to talk to. And he seemed like a good listener. “Owen, wait…”

He turned back.

I smiled. “Would you like to come in and share the pie?”

The light that filled his eyes was absolutely adorable. “I sure would.”

I chuckled. “Come on in.”

In the kitchen, I dug two forks from the drawer and pulled the bottle of wine from the refrigerator. “Want a glass?”

“I’d love one.”

Owen took the pie out of the bag while I poured our wine. It wasn’t until I sat down that I got a good look at what he’d actually brought.

“Oh my God. You brought anentirepie?”

He smiled. “I got lucky that they had a full one left to sell.”

I licked my lips. “You meanIgot lucky.”

He laughed and grabbed a fork. “Dig in.”

“We’re not even going to cut it up?”

“Nah. Slices are for quitters.”

Owen and I went to town on that Key lime pie. After eating what amounted to probably two big slices, I had to take a break. I leaned back in my chair with my hand on my stomach.

“Oh my God. That was so good.”

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Yeah. I really needed that. Your timing is impeccable.”

He put down his fork. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

I sighed. “I got emotional thinking about my childhood and what Hannah and Heath must be feeling.”

“Tell me about it.”

“About what?”

“Your childhood.”

My eyes widened. I rarely talked to anyone about my years with Vera. At first I’d been ashamed. But as I got older, I realized I had nothing to be ashamed about—my mother did. But I still didn’t open up to many people because I didn’t want pity or to be judged. I’d never told Robert how traumatic things had been when I was little. Yet somehow, it felt okay to let Owen in, at least a little bit.

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