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She was still trying to compose herself when she started back to her car. She would’ve waited another twenty minutes, until three when Buzzworthy Coffee closed, so she didn’t have to walk past it again. She was mortified by the scene Glenda had caused and didn’t want to try to apologize to Demin until she could do it without breaking down. But Ari had texted her a few minutes ago. She needed a ride to a friend’s house so they could do a homework project together.

She looked for Glenda’s SUV as she headed toward the coffee shop and didn’t see it, which came as a relief. But just as she was digging through her purse for her keys, the door swung open and Kanon stepped out with his laptop, a gust of warm, coffee-scented air following him. Apparently, he’d finished whatever he was working on and was finally leaving—at the worst possible time, at least for her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled to herself and stopped short so she wouldn’t collide with him again.

“You’re back?” he said in apparent surprise.

“No. I—I’m just trying to leave.” Ducking her head, she sidestepped him to reach her vehicle, which was parked only a few feet away.

“Don’t let her get to you,” he said. “She’s so shallow and selfish—always has been. I wondered what you saw in her back in high school.”

Surprised that he’d paid enough attention to even form an opinion, she couldn’t help looking up. “It’s…complicated.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said before striding down the block to his own vehicle—a red Ford F-350 truck.

She stood on the sidewalk as he pulled away from the curb. When he came even with her, he stopped and lowered his window, his truck idling rough and loud between them. “Jack traded down. I’m sure he knows that by now,” he said. Then the window slid up and he drove off.

Stunned by this show of support, coming from such an unexpected quarter, Patience watched until he turned off Montgomery Street. He’d been caught up in his own problems when he lived here and had then been gone since…forever. She didn’t see how he could know anything about her situation—not really. And yet…his words made her feel much better.

Maybe Kanon Kincaid wasn’t all bad.

* * *

Ari was waiting for her when she got home. “They’re getting a divorce, aren’t they?” she said as soon as Patience walked in the door.

Patience had managed to stop crying. She’d been distracted by the solace Kanon had offered her. But her face was still blotchy. It took more than the five minutes required to drive home for the evidence of her argument with Glenda to go away. “They’re…struggling.”

Ari had already figured that out so there wasn’t any point in lying, especially because it gave Patience an excuse for her tears.

“Why would you feel bad about that?” her daughter asked.

Patience crossed the living room to the kitchen to get a bottle of strawberry kombucha from the refrigerator. “You don’t feel bad about it at all? What if they split up?”

“Glenda’s nice, I guess,” Ari replied, a shrug in her voice. “But…she tries too hard.”

Surprised that her fourteen-year-old daughter had landed on such a fitting response, Patience carried her drink to the sink so it wouldn’t make a mess if it fizzed over when she opened it. “In what way?”

“To replace you—not only in Dad’s heart but in mine.”

Patience had noticed Glenda angling to become the more popular “mom” between them. That Ari had also noticed confirmed the creeping sensation Patience had experienced so often, and was extremely upsetting.

But Patience promised herself she’d unpack the bevy of negative emotions that conjured up later. She didn’t want this situation to blow up in her face. She had to maintain the stability they’d managed to create so far, which meant she couldn’t indulge her anger or succumb to jealousy. “At least she’s nice to you. That’s what’s important to me.”

Ari made a face. “Not so nice that you need to cry over her divorce.”

“Even if it dredges up feelings from my own?” Patience countered.

Her daughter’s expression immediately softened. “I get it. I’m sorry, Mom. Dad was stupid to lose you. I can tell he regrets it.”

“The divorce wasn’t all his fault.”

“That’s what you always say, but he’s the one who asked for it, right?”

Patience had never told her that. But Ari had been old enough to remember everything that’d gone on those final years. “Because he wasn’t happy. I don’t blame him. We were both young and stupid.”

Ari grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. “He blames Grandpa for the divorce.”

“It wasn’t all Papa’s fault, either.”