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had been decorated with a great deal of care. Rows of photos hung on the walls and cluttered the lace-coated mantels. The furniture had a quaint, homey vibe, and there were bowls of potpourri in the bathroom. It was the polar opposite of Mara’s apartment.
    Mara knew Neil wouldn’t like her home, and she’d been hoping to avoid an uncomfortable scene by never letting him see it. Maybe I can head him off on the stairs.
    A brisk knock made her cringe. Damn. Too late now . Mara crossed to the door, took a breath to brace herself, and pulled it open.
    “Hey, I got your message. Ready to—” Neil paused in the entryway as his eyes roved over the one-room home. Mara’s mattress—a bed frame would have been too expensive—was propped against one wall. A portable cooker, single pot, plate, and spoon sat opposite. The foldable dining table and plastic chair sat below the window, and a cardboard portable wardrobe held her clothes.
    Mara felt colour rise in her face. She kept her home clean. Her clothes were arranged neatly and washed often. She’d painted the windowsill with a half bucket of white paint someone had thrown away. But she still knew it was a pathetic living compared to what Neil enjoyed, and mingled embarrassment and injured pride scorched at her insides.
    Neil took a step into the room and swore. That startled Mara. She’d never heard anything harsher than fake swears— cripes , shoot , and sugar were his favourites—leave his lips.
    “Mara—” He broke off and pressed one hand to his mouth. His voice was thick. “Have you seriously been living here?”
    “Of course I have.” Mara crossed her arms defensively.
    Neil’s eyes scanned the seeping cracks that ran up one wall and the exposed wires clustered in one corner. His mouth turned into a hard line. “I had no idea—you should have said something—”
    “And what?” She knew an aggressive note was crawling into her voice, but she couldn’t fight it.
    Neil blinked at her, brows constricted. “You could have stayed with me. I know you don’t like Mum’s home, but we could have gotten an apartment together—”
    “I don’t need you white knighting your way into my life and solving my problems,” she snapped. “I’ve been quite comfortable on my own, thank you.”
    Neil didn’t reply, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. Her anger deflated like an eviscerated balloon. Crap .
    He wasn’t judging her, she knew. He was berating himself for not having helped. Neil was a fixer; the desire to solve problems was as central to his personality as Mara’s love of hot chips was to hers. And seeing a problem he could have fixed, but hadn’t, was agony for him. More than that, he worried about her. Even after six months of dating, Mara still wasn’t used to having another human altruistically interested in her welfare. It unsettled her almost as much as she liked it.
    Mara’s pride still stung, but the expression on Neil’s face cooled the burn. She stepped close to him and reached up to lace her fingers around the back of his neck. She pulled his head down until their foreheads met, then she smiled into his wide blue eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry I snapped. But I survived three and a half years without you—remember? And I’m proud that I did. I want to make my way through this world on my own two feet.”
    Neil sighed heavily. His arms wrapped around her lower back and pulled her closer, capturing her. She found she didn’t mind at all; his large hands stroked her back, and she shivered at the sensation.
    “I know,” he said. “And I admire that. But I could’ve helped if you’d said something.” He shuddered. “Did you even have enough to eat? Crap, no wonder you always seemed hungry—”
    Mara kissed him, hard, to stun him into silence. When she pulled back she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Jeeze, no, it’s not that dire. I just hate cooking, and your food is freakishly tasty. Listen—I could have had a nicer