this.”

After a sumptuous dinner of grilled steak and twice-baked potatoes, we set out on a tour of Dean and Dara’s neighbourhood.

“Beautiful houses.” I stopped and looked up at a two-storey red-brick home. “I’d die to own a house like that, but Vancouver prices are brutal.”

“Halifax is affordable,” Dean said. “In fact, there’s a gorgeous two-storey for sale a block over that would make an excellent family home.” He waggled his brows at me.

“Subtle. Real subtle,” I muttered as ringing bike bells had me side-stepping into the park, frosty red, orange, and yellow leaves crunching under my runners.

Two girls raced by on purple bikes, clutching the handlebars with gloved fingers, laughing and chattering in those high-pitched teenager tones.

I paused, inhaling the crisp fall air, memories assailing me. With eyes closed, I savoured the frosty, almost-winter, earthy tang hanging on the wind. With it came a vision of that day I’d wandered the streets of a neighbourhood not far from here, secure in the knowledge I’d found the one, his arm looped around me as we made up stories about the families inside the houses.

A smile lifted my lips, but the image faded when I opened my eyes.

Dean and Dara were both staring at me.

“What?”

“It’s time you moved home.” Dara caught my hand. “We miss you.”

“Awww.” Grinning, I threw my arms around her. “Back at you, honey bunny, but you know it’s impossible. I have my condo. I took that promotion.”

“Some things are more important.” Dara clung to me, sniffling. “There are no guarantees, so job be damned. Do what makes you happy.”

I freed myself from her clutches. “Why do you think I’m unhappy? I have a life.”

Dara swiped a hand across her eyes. “Having our friends close is important. Now more than ever.”

Now this was getting weird. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I promise, but I have a huge favour to ask. Please listen before you say no.” My friend fixed her red-rimmed, misty eyes on me. “We’ve invited Jake for brunch tomorrow.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “We’re not getting back together. So stop.”

“No, it’s not about that. It’s something else, and we need to discuss it with both you and Jake. Please?”

My breath caught. “Dara? Are you both okay?”

“We’re amazing.” Her soft words and tearful smile loosened the lump in my throat, but only a touch. “It’s nothing to be concerned about, but it’s important. Can you deal with Jake for a couple of hours?”

“Does it mean that much to you?”

Even as Dara nodded, I knew I could never refuse her anything.

“Okay. Best behaviour. I promise.”

Early the next morning, I escaped for a run along the boardwalk, intent on burning the nervous energy rampaging through me. When I returned just after nine, I tiptoed up the stairs, hurrying past Dean and Dara’s room, blocking out the giggles and low voices by turning up my music.

As a couple, these two just worked, immersed in bliss while navigating their dual existence. I was happy for them, truly, but feared I’d never have the chance to be half of the deliriously joyful couple in perfect step. The man I’d hoped was that second half simply wasn’t, but I ached for him anyway.

Once I’d showered and tugged on dark-washed jeans and a cable-knit sweater, I skipped down the stairs. “Smells wonderful. What can I help with?” I asked as I fixed my hair in a messy bun.

“Good morning, Ms. Bundle-of-Energy, out at the crack of dawn.” Dean stirred the pan of homemade hash browns on top of the silver gas range. “Want to set the table?”

“You’re disgustingly perky.” Dara rubbed bleary eyes and sipped from her steaming cup. “Wish I felt like that.”

“It was only ten kilometres.” I stopped to massage her shoulders for a moment before accepting a tray of cutlery and glasses from Dean and carrying them to the breakfast nook. “You look done in.”

“It’s early.” She smothered a yawn. “Not everyone can be lively at the crack of dawn.”

I scrunched my nose and smirked at Dean, who seemed unfazed by his wife’s uncharacteristic grouchiness. “Says the woman who dragged me to bootcamp at five in the morning. Married life making you lazy?”

“Something like that.” Dara’s face whitened and she bolted toward the stairs, leaving the tall stool wobbling in her wake. She charged up to the second level, her feet thumping against the laminate in the hallway, followed by a slamming door.

“Is she hungover? I don’t remember her drinking much wine at dinner.” While I filled an ornate pitcher with ice cubes and filtered water from the fridge, I tried to remember if she’d had anything at all. “The woman’s acting mighty odd.”

“Don’t worry about Dar.” Dean adjusted the heat under the pan, then looked my way, his eyes reflecting too much concern for my liking. “You ready for this?”

“For what, exactly?” I strived for an easy tone while struggling to keep the water from slopping over the side of the jug. “Seeing Jake?”

“Well, that, yeah.” He bent to peek into the oven, then straightened. “I’m hoping you’ll go easy on the guy, considering what happened with Alysa. Did Jake mention he lost the house?”

I claimed the stool beside the one Dara had vacated. “He said he sold it. The bank foreclosed?”

Dean leaned against the counter. “No, but the bank forced him to sell at a loss,” he said softly.

“I’m surprised a planner like Jake didn’t have life insurance.”

“They had plenty, but suicide tends to complicate everything.” The man sighed. “Losing the second income, taking months off work to be with Sari in the NICU, and the extra expenses bled Jake dry. I offered to help, but he refused. That’s Jake, always with a huge smile on his face, while underneath he’s drowning.” Dean levelled a look at me, barely blinking.

“That hasn’t changed,” I said in a low voice. “He’s lucky to have you and Dara.”

A knock sounded on the front door, followed by a blast of cool air.

“Speaking of …” Dean jutted his chin toward the foyer.

“Morning!” Jake strode into

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