“If it isn’t, we’re suing them for discrimination,” I said, pointing a finger at her.

She smiled, and I almost felt like things were okay in the world again. Maybe I wasn’t Superdad, but I was doing this.

“’Night, honey.” I blew her a kiss and headed for the door.

Downstairs, I folded some laundry, stacked everyone’s piles in baskets, and opened up my laptop on the dining room table. I emailed Sawyer and DeSantis that I wouldn’t be in tomorrow because of childcare issues, asked if meetings could please be rescheduled, and apologized for the late notice. Then I tried to tackle some of the work tasks that I’d been unable to finish during the day, but I still found it hard to concentrate.

At midnight, I finally gave up and went to bed, but even though I was tired, I couldn’t fall asleep. I was mad at Carla, worried she wouldn’t show, worried she would show, concerned about Millie, fearful I wasn’t handling her questions right, anxious about the future, and desperate to make things right with Frannie again. But how?

I couldn’t go backward and undo what we’d done. I couldn’t unhear the words she’d spoken. I couldn’t unfeel this longing for her. But I couldn’t act on it, either. My girls aside, Frannie deserved someone who could put her first, someone at the same stage of life she was in, who had all the time and energy in the world to dedicate to making her happy.

I was awake half the night wishing that someone could be me.

Frannie

At the reception desk the next morning, I braced myself every time someone came in the front door of the inn, but Mack never showed up for work. Around noon, I casually asked my dad where he was, and he informed me that Mack had taken the day off.

Even though I should have been glad I didn’t have to see him, I found myself wandering past his empty office anyway, feeling sad and lonely and torn. Had I made a mistake telling him how I really felt? Had that only made things worse? What if I’d ruined things between us forever and we could never look each other in the eye again?

Later that evening, he texted me.

Carla is coming to visit the kids on Friday. Can you still cover tomorrow?

There were so many other things I wanted to say to him, but in the end I replied with only one word.

Yes.

Three dots appeared on my screen, as if he were typing another message, but a few seconds later they disappeared, and no additional texts came through. Disappointed, I set my phone aside.

Then I opened my laptop to do a little digging around about small business loans and read whatever advice I could find about being a young female entrepreneur. It felt good to spend my energy on something other than obsessing over Mack, but he was always there at the back of my mind.

I spent the night hugging my pillow and trying not to cry into it.

Thursday I picked up Winnie from school and went through the usual afternoon routine with the girls. I helped Millie with her bun for ballet class and waved her off when her carpool ride picked her up. She’d seemed a little melancholy today, but her forehead didn’t feel hot, and she said she was fine.

At about quarter after five, I was standing at the counter helping Felicity with her spelling words when I heard the back door open. My heart jumped into my throat.

“Hi, Daddy,” Felicity called.

“Hi, everyone.” A moment later, Mack entered the kitchen. My back was to him, but I felt short of breath, as if he’d sucked up all the oxygen in the room.

“How was school?” he asked.

“Good. I lost another tooth.” Felicity grinned, proudly displaying the new hole in her smile.

Mack examined her teeth closely. “Good job. Where is it?”

“I put it in a little baggie on her dresser.” I faced him, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eye. Instead I looked at his chest. “Millie’s at ballet. Winnie is in her room.”

“Okay.”

Quickly I turned and headed for the back hall, shoved my feet into my boots, and threw on my coat. Without even bothering with gloves or a hat, I called a fake-cheerful “see you tomorrow” and rushed out.

I couldn’t even breathe until I was in my car, engine running.

Later, I got a text from Mack.

You left so fast I didn’t get a chance to pay you. I’ll bring you a check tomorrow and leave it at the desk.

I didn’t usually work at reception on Fridays. If I had orders for macarons for a weekend event, I got up early and spent the morning baking before picking up Winnie. However, there was no event scheduled at Cloverleigh that weekend and I didn’t even have to get Winnie, so my time would be totally free. I could easily go down to pick up a check from Mack.

But that would necessitate a face-to-face conversation, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

That’s fine.

He didn’t write back.

I used Friday to clean, do laundry, catch up on social media work, make some soup, and check in with April regarding the wedding schedule for the next few weeks. Ryan Woods’s wedding was coming up, and originally I’d been looking forward to the event—all the family on staff were invited since Ryan used to work for us—but now I found myself dreading it, since I knew Mack was the best man. I’d probably spend the entire night staring at him across the room.

April confirmed that they did want macarons as favors, and Stella’s wedding colors were navy, cranberry, ivory and gold. “She trusts you with the flavors and asked for velvet ribbons on the boxes that complement her color palette.”

“That sounds beautiful. I’m on it.”

I was looking through recipes and trying to decide on flavors when my mom called to ask if I’d mind taking the evening shift as hostess at the restaurant, since someone had called in sick. I said I’d be glad to. What else did I have to do besides sit around and mope?

The thought annoyed me. I was only twenty-seven years old. Why didn’t I have a more interesting social life? Or at least somewhere to go on a Friday night? Valentine’s Day was coming up next week. The inn would be full of romantic couples, which normally made me happy, but I found myself dreading it. I stayed good and aggravated as I showered and got ready for work. As I made my way down to the restaurant, I noticed it was snowing again. For fuck’s sake, even snow reminded me of Mack now. Would winter never end?

I checked in with the floor manager at the restaurant and assumed my post at the hostess stand, trying not to frown at all the couples coming in for a romantic dinner. Evidently, I wasn’t doing a very good job at it, because after a while my mother hurried across the lobby from the reception desk with creases in her forehead.

“Frannie, would you mind taking that sour expression off your face? It’s very off-putting.”

“I don’t have a sour expression,” I snapped.

She folded her arms. “I can see it clear across the room. We want people to feel welcome when they come in. Look a little warmer, please.”

“Sorry.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I’ll try.”

Suddenly her annoyance turned into concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling fine,” I said through my teeth, plastering on a smile as a few guests approached. “And I have to seat these people, so excuse me.”