Olivia had to stop there. Gather herself. She had said more than enough.
“It scares me to death,” Bailey said. “This thing has hit me like a tsunami.”
Olivia wiped her face. Nodded.
“And my daughter,” Bailey went on. “Elena has never, not once in her entire life, talked about somebody the way she does about Dillon.”
A sudden cloud of regret almost swamped her. Seeing how Bailey’s face was effused with a hope strong as daylight. Remembering days when she was the one who felt . . .
Olivia knew a moment’s keening desire for a different outcome. Where they had handled things better, done things differently. Made the moment theirs to share, rather than this. Seeing a new love bloom in a good woman, and know it was time for her to move on.
It was the most natural thing in the world to rise and walk over and gather the mayor up in an embrace. Olivia said it then. Whispered, really. No volume was necessary between friends. “Go for it.”
