HE FIRST THING I DID WAS nothing. Aside from going to work and taking care of Digger, I didn’t do a damn thing. A whole week passed, and all I could do was reach out and touch the new sore spot in my heart. But then, as I got over the shock of my revelation, I turned to my closest friends.

Katie and I drove up to the Pink Peacock one evening for dinner. Curtis and Mitch had converted the third floor into a spacious, elegant apartment with sweeping views of the long stone breakwater and small lighthouse that stood on Provincetown’s final spit of land. Over grilled striper, I gently broke the news, saying the words gingerly.

“It seems that I’m—um—I’m in love with Sam.” I waited for their alarm, their sympathy, their words of wisdom.

Curtis and Mitch glanced at each other. Katie was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I know,” she said.

“You know?”

She gave a little smile. “Yeah, Mil. I’m sorry to say, it was kind of…obvious.”

“It was?” Mouth hanging open, I turned to Curtis and Mitch. “Did you know, too?” I asked, blinking rapidly.

“Well, no, not exactly,” Curtis answered. “But it does make sense. Sam really is true blue, isn’t he? Definitely more your type than Joe was.”

“Curtis, he’s my brother-in-law!” I yelped.

“Well, technically, not anymore,” Mitchell murmured.

“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked.

“Tell him?” Katie suggested, taking a bite of her meal.

“Right, Katie. He thinks of me as the sister he never had. I’m not going to tell him.” I flopped back in my seat. No more advice was offered.

THE CLINIC WAS WINDING DOWN, and things were already pretty slow. After we closed, Dr. Whitaker was giving me two weeks off before I’d start with him. We’d worked out the details of our arrangement…. He’d cover half my malpractice insurance for the first year, and any new patients would be mine. Although I’d initially be making less than I had at the clinic, it was a good, solid offer, exactly what I’d always wanted. Professionally, I was all set. Personally, I was struggling.

Though it was easy now to see that I had never really loved Joe Carpenter, I nonetheless missed that old image of him. My obsession had unknowingly motivated me to do a lot of things that I might not have done otherwise—embarrassing, slightly humiliating, but true. For so many years, I’d dreamed of a life with Joe.

As for dreaming of Sam, forget it. My friendship with Sam was one of the best things in my life, and I wasn’t about to ruin it with a declaration that he’d never be able to forget.

The thing was, of course, that aside from apparently being the love of my life, Sam was also part of my family. I couldn’t avoid him. And aside from the awkwardness I knew I’d feel, I missed him. So when my mom called and asked me to come over for dinner with Sam and Danny, I said yes.

My heart was thumping as I pulled into my parents’ driveway. Sam’s truck was already there. I wiped my palms on my jeans and went in.

“Hello, darling,” my mom called, hunching down to check the roast.

“Hi, everyone,” I said. Sam was leaning against the fridge, nursing a beer.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, leaning over and giving me a one-armed hug. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, fine,” I said, quickly extracting myself.

How many times had Sam hugged me in my life? A hundred? Two hundred? More? And now suddenly my mouth was dry, my stomach fluttered and my cheeks grew hot. I scurried across the kitchen and hugged my nephew.

“How are you, tall one?” I asked, grateful to be with someone for whom my emotions were still pure.

“Good, Aunt Mil. Hey, sorry to hear about you breaking up with Joe. He was nice.” Danny gave me a sympathetic grin.

“Thanks, honey.”

“Hey, Mil, remember that, um, project you said you’d help me with?” Danny asked in a low voice.

“The midwestern project?” I murmured back.

“Yup. Got any time this week?”

“Sure. Want to come over one day after school? How about Thursday, around four? You can stay for supper.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Sam was watching us, a smile crinkling his eyes. An almost painful tightness wrapped my heart. Get used to it, I admonished myself.

Dinner was fine, I was fine. I told everyone about my arrangements with Dr. Whitaker, and they were thrilled. We talked about Danny’s school year. Dad talked about work. Mom talked about the upcoming local elections. I acted normally throughout, and it wasn’t actually too hard. I just couldn’t look at Sam for more than a second without that ache coming back, my throat tightening up and my hands shaking. Otherwise, no problem.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” I said the second I thought I could make a run for it.

“Let me make you up a plate, Millie,” my mom said, leaping for her Tupperware.

“Oh, no, that’s okay, Mom. It was fantastic, but, um, no thanks. Send it home with Danny and Sam.”

I kissed my parents and waved to Danny. “Bye, Sam,” I said, grabbing my purse.

“I’ll walk you out,” Sam said, rising

“No, no, that’s okay.” Heat rushed to my face as I fumbled for my coat.

“Don’t be silly.” Sam caught up to me in the hall and put his arm around my shoulders, his familiar height so unbearably dear to me that I almost cried. Mutely, I let him escort me down the walk and to my car. My heart thudded in my chest, and I seemed to have forgotten how to take a breath.

Sam leaned against my car door, blocking access to the escape pod. “Everything okay, Millie?” he asked.

“Yes! Everything is great!” I exclaimed, looking skyward.

He squinted at me, cop-like. “You’re acting strange.”

“Really?”

“Is it breaking up with Joe?” he asked. “Because I know you guys were pretty tight this summer. It must be tough.”

“You have no idea,” I said. “Literally no idea.”

“Well, why don’t we go out for a bite some night and you can tell me about it?”

“Um, sure, Sam. That would be terrific. Listen, I have to go now, though, because, um, I have to call a patient back at nine o’clock, and—”

“Oh! Sorry, Millie. I’ll let you go.” Ever the gentleman, he opened my door for me. “I’ll call you this week, okay?”

“Bye!” I stretched my mouth into a smile and nearly backed over his foot.