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divorced couple trying to act normal while making everyone else feel uncomfortable. I can’t even begin to process what’s going on between us. So how can we expect our friends and your family to deal with it?”
    Trent stepped in closer again, wanting to touch her, but resisting the urge for fear she’d pull away again.
    “It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable. We’ve bumped into each other before,” he reminded her, even though the truth was that they’d only ever seen each other briefly across a parking lot or in a grocery store.
    “It’s different now.” She took a step back, and the confirmation that she needed space between them stung.
    “You mean because I’m living here?”
    She nodded, the difficulty of whatever she was about to say written in her wrinkled brow and the rising of her shoulders. “I’m trying to get used to the idea that we’ll be seeing each other a lot more now that you’re back. It’s a lot to take in, don’t you think?”
    “Couldn’t that be a good thing?” Please tell me it is .
    “I don’t know. That’s something I’m still trying to figure out. And I’m going to need some space to do that.” She paused long enough for the words to settle in before saying, “Good night, Trent; have fun with everyone tonight,” and walking to her car.
    He fought the urge to go after her, because even though he wanted to beg her to stay and talk things through, he’d already hurt her once. Regardless of whether there was hope for something more between them again or not, he still wanted to apologize for all the pain he’d caused her. But right now he didn’t need to push her or make her relive the past.
    Giving her space was the least he could do, but hell if it didn’t feel like he was losing her all over again—before he even had a chance to make things right.

Chapter Six
    REESE HAD BEEN teaching painting classes at Bay’s Edge Assisted Living Facility since shortly after returning from New York. What had begun as a way to keep herself distracted from thoughts of her failed marriage had turned into one of the things Reese most looked forward to. She’d thought that teaching the elderly to paint might brighten their days with something new and exciting to look forward to, while offering a sense of creativity and accomplishment. But what she’d found was comfort of her own. She’d met a host of insightful, caring friends who’d embraced her and helped her through some of her toughest moments.
    As she walked through the front door juggling a box of paints and a bag of paintbrushes, she thought of her students—friends—who had passed away over the years. The ache of every loss hit her hard. And then a new, bright face would take the empty seat in her class, and a new relationship would develop.
    That cycle of loss and moving forward had helped Reese move on after her divorce. At least she’d thought she’d moved on.
    “Good morning, Reese,” Kathleen Torrence, the front-desk receptionist, greeted her, breaking her out of her thoughts about Trent.
    Kathleen was a spunky brunette who had gone to school with Reese’s mother. Kathleen’s mother was living at Bay’s Edge, and every time Reese walked through the doors, she couldn’t help but wonder if one day she’d be visiting her own parents there. It was the only assisted living facility on the island, and it had a stellar reputation for treating the residents on all levels—mental, physical, and emotional.
    “How’s your mom today?”
    Kathleen put her hand out and wiggled it from side to side. “Fair to middling. Thanks for asking.”
    Reese tightened her grip on the heavy bag on the verge of slipping out of her hands, and Kathleen said, “You’d better go put that bag down. Looks heavier than usual. And watch out for the Rickenbachers. They were in rare form at breakfast,” Kathleen called after her.
    Reese grinned as she headed into the arts and crafts room. The Rickenbachers were in their late eighties, but