He’s lucky to have Jonah. A man who stepped up, knowing there’s a huge possibility he didn’t father him. I hope, for Jonah’s sake, that Elijah doesn’t resent him if he ever finds out. I hope it makes Elijah appreciate Jonah even more.

Jonah walks into the living room and smiles when he sees Elijah asleep on my chest. He sits down next to us on the couch and rubs a hand over Elijah’s back. Jonah releases a quiet sigh, and when I look at him, he’s staring back at me. He’s sitting so close our legs are touching.

The feelings that came about unexpectedly in the kitchen earlier are being shaken awake. I was hoping that was a fluke and that this reaction Jonah elicits from me would remain dormant from here on out.

“Scoot over,” I whisper.

Jonah’s eyes squint, as if he doesn’t understand my direction.

“You’re too close. I need space.”

Jonah understands that. He almost seems a little surprised by my reaction. He moves to the other end of the couch in a dramatic display. Now I feel like I just insulted him.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m just . . . confused.”

“It’s fine,” Jonah says.

I crane my neck and look down at Elijah. He’s limp enough that I can probably move him back to the bassinet. I do that because I need fresh air. After placing him gently onto the mattress, I wait to make sure he doesn’t wake up; then I cover him up.

I don’t even make eye contact with Jonah as I make my way to the back patio. I’m sure he’ll follow me, whether I ask him to or not. And honestly, we need to discuss what almost happened in the kitchen because the last thing I need is for Jonah to think there’s any kind of possibility there.

Jonah slides the glass door shut after he follows me out. I’m pacing the back patio, staring at the stones beneath my feet. Chris installed them a few years ago. Jenny and I helped him, and I remember how much fun we had. We kept making fun of Chris because for some reason, he listened to John Denver while doing yard work and would sing at the top of his lungs. He never listened to John Denver any other time. Only when he did yard work. Jenny and I ridiculed him the entire time we were helping, so he locked us out of the backyard and finished the patio without us.

I wonder if their affair started before then.

I wonder, more often than I should, when it did start. I don’t know why I keep hoping it’s more recent. The idea that it’s been going on for years makes it feel even more personal. I guess if I work up the courage to read the letters we found earlier, I might find out some of the answers to all the questions I have.

Jonah takes a seat in what used to be Chris’s favorite chair. Jenny bought it for him.

My God, how can I be so stupid? What brother- and sister-in-law get along as well as they did? Why did I never see it?

“Sit down,” Jonah says. “It makes me nervous when you pace.”

I flop down into the chair next to Jonah. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to push all the memories back. I don’t want to think about all the things in this house that tie Jenny and Chris together. I’ve already destroyed the painting. I don’t want to have to destroy the patio furniture and anything else I actually use.

When I open my eyes, I look over at Jonah. His head is resting comfortably against the back of the chair. It’s tilted in my direction, but he doesn’t say anything. He thinks a lot, but he doesn’t verbalize a lot.

I don’t know why the silence is irritating me right now. “Say something. It’s too quiet.”

As if he already had words on the tip of his tongue, he says, “If you never would have gotten pregnant with Clara, would you have left Chris?”

“What kind of question is that?”

He shrugs. “I’ve just always wondered. I wasn’t sure if you decided to stay with him because of Clara or if it was because you were in love with him.”

I look away from him, because honestly, it’s none of his business. If he wanted to know how my life was going to play out, he shouldn’t have left without warning.

His voice is quieter when he continues. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Jonah, stop.”

“You told me to say something.”

“I didn’t mean . . .” I sigh. “I don’t know what I meant.”

It suddenly seems too stuffy outside. I go back inside, wanting to put space between Jonah and me. But he follows me all the way to my bedroom. Again, he closes the door behind him so our conversation doesn’t wake Elijah. He seems a little annoyed that I keep moving from room to room to get away from him.

The letters strewn out over my mattress feel like they’re staring back at me, taunting me.

“Are we going to address what happened in the kitchen?” he asks.

I’m pacing again, whether he likes it or not. “Nothing happened in the kitchen.”

He looks at me like he’s disappointed in my inability to face this in a mature way. I grip my forehead with my hand, trying to massage away an oncoming headache. I don’t look at him when I speak.

“You want to talk about it? Fine. Okay. My husband has only been dead for a matter of weeks, and I almost kissed someone else. And if that isn’t bad enough, it was you I almost kissed. It makes me feel like shit.”

“Ouch.”

“What if Clara had caught us? Would it really have been worth it?”

“This isn’t about Clara.”

“It is about Clara. And it’s about Elijah. It’s about everyone but us.”

“I feel differently.”

I laugh. “Of course you would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shake my head, frustrated. “You cut ties with your best friends for seventeen years, Jonah. All you do is think about yourself and what you want. You never think about how your actions affect other people.”

I feel the look he’s giving me deep in my core. He’s staring at me in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone. It’s a mixture of confusion and injury. He whispers, “Wow,” then turns and walks out of my bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Jonah Sullivan, running away again. Why am I not surprised?

I’m angry now. I storm out of my bedroom, prepared to yell at him, but he’s walking out the door with Elijah. He sees me following after him, and he can tell how angry I am because our expressions match. He just shakes his head and says, “Don’t. I’m leaving.”

I follow him outside anyway because I don’t feel empty yet. I still feel like an endless well, full of things I need him to hear. I wait until he buckles in Elijah’s car seat and closes the door before I start in on him.

As soon as he faces me, waiting for me to speak, I can’t think of a single thing to say.

I just stand in my yard with absolutely nothing left to say.

I honestly don’t even know why we’re arguing. We didn’t even kiss. And I’ll never put myself in a position like that with him again, so I don’t even know why I’m so angry to begin with.

Jonah leans against his car and folds his arms over his chest. He waits a moment, allowing calm to settle between us. Then he lifts his head and looks at me with so much emotion in his expression.

“Jenny was your sister. No matter how I felt about you, I would have never come between the two of you. I left because unlike Jenny and Chris, I had respect for them. For you. Please don’t ever call me selfish again, because that was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my entire life.”