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“Bought me a drink I was too nervous to finish and told me my shirt was trying too hard.”

Clint’s mouth twitches. “Mean.”

“No, he was right. And somehow kind. He always made sure you were in on the joke.”

That was the magic.

“He introduced me to people. Took me places. Drag shows, brunches, house parties, bars where men kissed you on the cheek when they said hello. I had spent so much time making myself less of a bother that I thought smallness was my personality.”

Clint’s expression quiets.

“Renny made the world feel bigger,” I say. “At first.”

The last two words come out before I can stop them. Clint hears them but does not pounce.

“He was funny,” I say. “Ridiculously funny. Generous in ways that looked effortless. He remembered everyone’s drink, everyone’s birthday, every humiliating story and when to retell it for maximum damage. People turned toward him when he entered a room. Plants probably did too.”

“Sounds annoying.”

“He was extremely annoying.”

Clint grins. “And easy to love?”

I look at him.

“Yeah,” I say. “Definitely.”

He exhales slowly. “I think I would have. Continue?”

“He made me feel chosen. I was young and awkward and quieter than I wanted to be. He was already himself, or seemed to be. When he looked at me, I felt like maybe I was worth looking at.”

Clint drops his eyes to the counter.

“I hate him for what he did to you,” I say. “I do. I need you to know that. None of what I’m saying changes that. He failed you in a way I still can’t make fit with the man I knew.”

Clint nods.

“But he was not only the failure,” I add. “That’s the part I keep tripping over.”

“The good parts were real.”

“Yes.”

He turns and picks up the bowl, scraping a finger through the last streak of batter.

“Here,” he says. “Eat your complicated dead husband’s birthday cake batter.”

I laugh before the tears can win.

I take his finger into my mouth. The batter is sweet and slightly grainy.

“Was he always rich?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “He was successful, and very ambitious, but the money came later. The preserving came later. Then he started putting walls around everything he loved.”

“Including you?”

I look down at the bowl.