“You look like hell,” Jaylyn said bluntly as she opened the front door of her Sacramento home. “Come on, the kids are at soccer practice, so we can actually talk like adults.”

Bette followed her cousin into the familiar chaos of the Morrison household – toys scattered across the living room, art projects covering the coffee table, the lingering smell of mac and cheese and childhood. It was so different from Tina’s parents’ orderly home, but somehow just as comforting.

“Coffee or wine?” Jaylyn asked, heading toward the kitchen.

“Coffee. It’s barely noon.”

“Wine it is,” Jaylyn said, ignoring her and pulling out a bottle of pinot grigio. “You’re going to need it for this conversation.”

They settled on the back patio, where Jaylyn’s garden was in full bloom. For a moment, neither one spoke, just sat in the comfortable silence they’d perfected over thirty-three years.

“So,” Jaylyn said finally. “How bad is it?”

“Which part? The part where Tina’s entire marriage was a lie, or the part where she’s decided she’s in love with me?”

“Let’s start with how you’re handling all of this.”

Bette took a large sip of wine. “I’m handling it like someone who learned ten years ago not to trust my heart when it comes to Tina Kennard.”

“But you still love her.”

It wasn’t a question. Jaylyn had always been able to read her like a book.

“That’s not the point.”

“That’s exactly the point.” Jaylyn leaned forward. “Bette, I watched you after everything fell apart. I watched you bury yourself in law school, in work, in anything that would keep you from thinking about her. You built walls so high that nobody could get through them.”

“Those walls protected me.”

“Those walls isolated you. When’s the last time you dated someone seriously? When’s the last time you let someone get close enough to matter?”

Bette was quiet, staring into her wine glass.

“That’s what I thought,” Jaylyn said softly. “You’ve been waiting for her, even when you didn’t realize it.”

“I haven’t been waiting for anyone. I’ve been building a career, a life…”

“A life without love. A life without risk. A life that’s safe but empty.”

“My life is not empty.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaylyn’s voice was gentle but challenging. “When’s the last time you were truly happy, Bette? Not successful, not accomplished, but happy?”