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Later, in the checkout line, I said, “I admire her.”

“Why?” Will asked.

“Because even after all of this, she never apologized for having sex with a boy she wanted to have sex with. I could learn a thing or two from a seventeen-year-old girl.”

That was a sincere comment; I wasn’t trying to make a point about Will’s behavior at Latrobe’s, but it was out of my mouth before I realized the implications.

Will averted his eyes when he said, “We could all learn from her.”

Eventually, Olivia, the main bully in Claire’s group, was booted out of the school, but Will wanted a more serious charge against her, something akin to criminal harassment. But the school stuck to its “girls will be girls” policy, hoping Olivia’s expulsion would be enough to start the healing. I stopped Will more than once from going over to Olivia’s house to yell through a locked door, which would only have come across as a different kind of bullying.

Meanwhile, Claire gradually got better and returned to work after March Break as if from a war, shell-shocked and tender. On her first day back, she took Dell aside.

“I swear I’m okay now. I won’t do anything stupid like that again,” she said.

“Hard going through something like that all alone,” Dell said, patting her dreads. “Next time, open your mouth. Tell somebody. Tell me.”

It was surprising to see Dell act so caring, until I remembered that she’d launched four kids, including a set of twins, and two grandkids into the world, quite successfully, and mostly alone.

The kitchen was a crazy hive of activity when Will breathlessly barreled in, tossing a small paper bag on the prep table in front of me.

“Cassie, I tried to reach you but there was no answer. No black truffles, only white. That okay?”

“You asked for black, right, Dell?” I hunted around for my phone, realizing I’d probably left it in Jesse’s truck when he dropped me off that morning.

“I did.”

“Does the color of the damn truffle even matter?” Will asked her.

“It always matters,” Dell said, pressing that point home in the form of a lesson to Claire.

Will exhaled and dropped his chin to his chest. “Fuck. I can’t do anything right.”

“Come on,” Dell said, drying her hands on a tea towel and grabbing Claire by the sleeve. “I’ll show you where to hunt and gather.”

Dell and Claire left us standing in the kitchen. I immediately rose to leave, the way I always did when it looked like I was going to be alone with Will.

“Wait,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

My stomach clenched. I turned to face him.

“I wanted to say thanks,” he said. “I already thanked Dell, and now I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being such a support for Claire. And such a good example.”

“A good example?”

“Of a grown woman who has her shit together.” He continued without waiting for my reply. “Every time you show up here without hurling something at my head, you’re setting a good example. Every time you pick her up and take her to a movie, and come in here early and deal with Dell because you’re better at it than I am, you set a good example. Every time you make a smart decision about the menu, or handle an irate customer with more grace than one person should possess, you set a good example for her. And I just want to say thank you. And I owe you.”

I was getting that deep, warm feeling you get when you look for longer than usual at a face you love. I let myself enjoy that moment, the two of us standing there being kind to each other in a quiet kitchen. Months of resentment slid away. And then, without my permission, my hand lifted to touch that face I once had loved so much. And he let me. He let me touch him without flinching, without stepping back and away. Somehow I had expected the feel of his skin to be familiar, but it was new to me.

“You don’t owe me anything, Will. I care about her.”

He reached up to touch the back of my hand. “Well, I owe you something, Cassie. At least an explanation.”

“For what?”

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