An unfamiliar feeling burned in Griffin’s chest as they waited for the valet to bring his car around. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

Alice leaned against him, her cheek resting on his shoulder and her hair tickling his neck. That part he did like—intensely. He suspected the one feeling had a lot to do with the other, in a way he wasn’t prepared to examine too closely at the moment.

A gust of wind sent goose bumps shivering over her skin and he instinctively slid his hand down her arm. She sighed and nuzzled closer, clasping her hands behind his back.

The feeling in Griffin’s chest worked its way up to his throat. He swallowed and shifted Alice slightly to the side and away from his growing erection.

Oh thank god. The valet.

Griffin escorted Alice to the passenger’s side and saw her tucked inside the car before handing the valet a tip and sliding behind the wheel.

“Seat belt,” he reminded her as he fastened his own.

Alice’s head swiveled toward him, and she smiled as if she was surprised to find him sitting beside her in his own car. “Hmmm?”

“You need to put your seat belt on.”

“Right-o.” She twisted away from him and dug around beside the door looking for it. It took her an absurdly long time to locate it and stretch it across her body. Griffin let her fumble with the buckle for a few more seconds before taking it from her and clicking it into place himself.

“Thanks,” she said, placing her hand over his and squeezing warmly.

Her skirt had slid up when she got in the car, exposing an expanse of smooth, creamy thigh. It was nothing he hadn’t seen around the house plenty of times when she was wearing her favorite cutoff shorts, but somehow it felt more dangerous here in the car beneath her killer strapless dress.

Griffin fixed his eyes straight ahead and put both hands on the wheel.

Alice fiddled with the sound system for a few minutes, skipping through his playlists until she found one she liked. As a Sia song filled the car, she settled back in her seat with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to drink so much tonight, but it was just so fun and so delicious.”

Amusement curved his lips. “Don’t worry about it. You deserve to cut loose and enjoy yourself.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

She reached across the console and gave his leg an accusing poke. “You didn’t cut loose. Or enjoy yourself.”

Griffin kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t have to cut loose to have a good time.”

“But you didn’t have a good time, did you? You pretended to, but it was all an act.”

“I’m an actor. Acting’s kind of my thing.”

“Why didn’t you have a good time?” she persisted.

He shrugged. “I don’t like goodbyes.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

When he let himself glance over at her, she was staring out the window.

They passed the rest of the drive in silence. He was pretty sure Alice had fallen asleep until her head snapped up when he put the car in park. She rubbed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

Griffin unclipped his seat belt and leaned over to help her with hers. “Let’s get you unbuckled.”

“You’re nice,” she murmured drowsily. “I didn’t think you would be, but you are.”

He snorted. “Thanks…I think.”

Her brow wrinkled with a frown. “You know what I mean. People don’t always turn out to be nice. But you did.”

He reached out to touch her face before he had a chance to think about what he was doing. Her head lolled against his palm, her lips forming a soft smile as her eyes fluttered closed. It felt so natural and she looked so lovely, he couldn’t help stroking her cheek.

No.

Alice was drunk and she didn’t know what she was doing. Griffin had some idea what it had taken for her to start trusting him, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to repay that trust by taking advantage when her inhibitions were lowered.

“Come on,” he said, retracting his hand. “Let’s get you inside.”

He got out of the car and walked around to her door, balling the hand that had touched her face into a tight fist, as if he could hold on to a piece of her that way.

When he opened the car door, she smiled up at him and extended a hand. He accepted it, resting his other hand on the back of her head to protect it as he helped her out of the car. As soon as she was on her feet she leaned against him again, as casually as if it were something she’d done a thousand times before. His heart thumped in his chest as he slipped his arm around her to guide her toward the house. For her own protection, he told himself. So she didn’t stumble and fall on the dark, uneven walk to the door.

“You smell nice,” she murmured into his chest.

“So do you.” She smelled like peaches, and very slightly of sweat, but in a not-unpleasant way.

He suspected she’d be mortified tomorrow, assuming she remembered any of this. Meanwhile, Griffin was trying to burn the memory into his brain. To memorize how it felt to hold her body close to his, since it would probably never happen again.

When he got Alice into the house, she bent to pet Taco and wound up sliding to the living room floor in a heap. Griffin left her there for a minute while he went to grab a Gatorade out of the fridge. When he came back, she was stretched out on her back like she planned to fall asleep right there with Taco licking her face.

“Up,” Griffin said, setting the Gatorade on the coffee table. “No passing out on the floor.”

“But it’s so comfy here.”

“No, it’s not.” He stooped and grabbed her hands to pull her upright. The momentum carried her all the way into his arms, where she sagged against him.

“I take it back,” she mumbled into his chest, holding on tight. “This is much comfier.”

Wincing at the inappropriateness of their current position, he hug-walked Alice over to the couch, where he carefully lowered her down. “Sit.”

“Sit,” she repeated, grinning up at him.

When he was reasonably convinced she wasn’t going to tip onto the floor again, he reached for the Gatorade. “Drink,” he ordered, twisting the lid off and handing it to her.

She scrunched her nose up. “Sit…drink. I’m not a dog, you know.”

“I know that, but you’re taking as much micromanaging as one. And you need the electrolytes, so drink up.” He sat down at the opposite end of the couch, leaving plenty of space between them.

She took a sip and made a face. “What flavor is this?”

“Blue.”

“Blue’s not a flavor, it’s a color.”

“I think it’s supposed to be raspberry.”

“Raspberries aren’t blue. You know what’s blue? Blueberries. Why is everything always blue raspberry, which doesn’t exist, instead of blueberry, which does?”

Griffin felt himself smile. “I don’t know. Maybe the guy who invented blue raspberry flavor really hated blueberries. Drink some more.”

Alice managed a few more swallows, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and set the bottle on the coffee table. “Gross.”

Griffin eyed her warily. “How’re you feeling? You’re not gonna ralph, are you?” If so, he preferred to get her into the bathroom now and save his upholstery. Blue raspberry left a bitch of a stain.

“Nope. The room’s a little spinny, but otherwise I’m gooooood.” Alice twisted around and lay back on the couch with her feet hanging over the armrest and her head in his lap.

Terrific. Griffin willed his body to relax, and tried to act like he wasn’t feeling anything about having Alice so close.

She reached up and ran her fingers over his chin.

Breathe. This is fine.

“I wish you weren’t leaving,” she said as she traced his jawline. “I like being your roommate.”

He caught her fingers, giving them a squeeze before placing them on her stomach. “I like being your roommate too.” He didn’t dare confess that he wanted to be more than just a roommate, even though she probably wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t risk damaging what they had.

She rolled toward him in an attempt to snuggle closer, and her head brushed against his dick.

Griffin practically sprang out from under her. “Time for you to go night-night,” he said as he levered her to her feet.

“Boo.” Her lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout, but she let him guide her to her bedroom.

He hadn’t been in there since her first day in the house, when it had still been cluttered with suitcases. The room smelled like Alice now. Sweet and flowery with an undertone of peaches. The room was neat as a pin, except for some discarded clothes on the floor. He tried not to look at the lacy pink bra lying in plain sight as he led her to the bed.

She sank down on the end of the mattress and flopped backward with her arms stretched overhead, which did alarming things to the top of her strapless dress. Griffin averted his eyes from the hint of black lace peeking out, and instead focused on Alice’s feet, which were clad in strappy black heels.

No way was he helping her out of her dress, but he could at least do her the favor of taking her shoes off for her before she fell asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, lifted one of her feet into his lap, and began to unfasten the tiny buckle on the strap. The damn thing was really small, and his thick fingers had a bitch of a time. Alice’s toes were painted the same crimson as her lips and dress, and they wiggled playfully as Griffin fought with the buckle. At least she wasn’t ticklish. He remembered that much from the scene they’d done together, when he’d pretended to examine her ankle. The memory of her body, warm and small on the gurney under his, came back to him, and he pushed it back down deep.

By the second shoe, Griffin had started to get the hang of those infernal little buckles, so it went much faster than the first. When he eased it off he noticed an angry red blister forming on the ball of Alice’s foot.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, prodding it gently to see if it required antiseptic.

“It’s fine,” she muttered, plucking at his arm. “Come here.”

Griffin stood up and walked around to the side of the bed, standing over her uncertainly.

“Sit.” Alice scooted higher on the bed and tugged on his hand.

Reluctantly, he let her pull him down to sit beside her on the edge of the mattress. “Do you need anything?” Maybe he should get her some aspirin or a glass of water—

“Just you.”

Griffin was a decent fucking human being who didn’t put the moves on women when they were drunk, but goddamn. The devil was really determined to test him tonight.

Alice was still holding on to his hand, stroking her thumb over his knuckles. He curled his fingers around hers and swallowed. His whole body tingled with an awareness of her that crackled in the air between them like a magnetic field. It would be so easy to close the distance between them and brush his lips against hers…

This was dangerous.

He let go of her hand and stood up, backing away. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything.”

She curled up on her side, tucking her hands beneath her cheek, and closed her eyes. Griffin unfolded the throw blanket from the foot of the bed and gingerly draped it over her. Then he backed out of the room, turning off the light before quietly shutting the door behind him.

Safely in the hall, with no one around to see, he rested his forehead against the door and smiled.

Alice’s memories of the wrap party were hazy.

The part when Griffin had taken her home was somewhat clearer, surprisingly, but still frustratingly blurry. She couldn’t remember much of their conversation, but had a distinct impression of nuzzling against his chest, which was acutely embarrassing. There were other vague memories as well: strong arms, gentle hands, soft eyes.

And one very clear image of lying on the couch with her head in his lap.

She was utterly mortified. Also annoyed. It was unfair that she’d somehow managed to cuddle with Griffin and could barely remember it.

She’d awoken on top of her comforter the next morning, still wearing her dress from the party and covered by a blanket she assumed she had Griffin to thank for. That was a bit embarrassing as well.

They both avoided speaking of it. Alice’s head was throbbing with a massive hangover, and Griffin was busy packing. Aside from handing her a large bottle of Gatorade and two aspirin, he considerately left her alone to her misery and embarrassment.

She wanted to thank him for getting her home and into bed like a gentleman and a good friend, but was too ashamed to raise the subject. Far easier to pretend the whole night had never happened.

Unfortunately, someone had seen Alice leave the party with Griffin, and the news had made it through the crew gossip mill. There was even a blurry photo of them getting into Griffin’s car on TMZ, but fortunately Alice’s face was turned away from the camera.

Rachel called in the afternoon to get the scoop. “I want all the gory details. Spill.”

“Huh?” Alice had been dozing on her bed when her phone rang, and her head was still feeling woolly.

“You and Griffin? Everyone knows you left with him last night.”

Alice groaned and rolled onto her back. “It’s not what you think.”

“Tell me absolutely everything,” Rachel rushed on. “Is he a good lay? Does he have the six-pack even when he hasn’t done a water cut? How long is his dick? This one time he was wearing these tight slacks, and I swear to god it looked like the bulge went halfway down his thigh, but Tina insisted it was just the battery pack for his mic—so which is it?”

“Stop!” Alice begged, rubbing her temple. “I don’t know any of the answers.” Except the six-pack thing, which was a definite yes, but now was not the time to admit that.

“Come on. You did leave the party with him, didn’t you?”

Alice got up and shut her bedroom door, in case Griffin was within earshot. “Yes, but nothing happened. I swear.”

“How is that possible? He’s a total man-slut. Wait—did you turn him down?” Rachel sounded aghast.

“No, I didn’t have to,” Alice tried to explain. “It’s not like that. I’m…” His friend? His roommate? His dog sitter? All of the above?

“You’re what?”

“I’m his house sitter, okay? I’m gonna be taking care of his dog and bringing in his mail while he’s in Atlanta the next three months.” She suddenly remembered he was leaving tomorrow and felt a knot form in her stomach.

“Oh.” Rachel’s voice deflated in disappointment. “Hang on. Are you staying at his place now?”

Alice winced. “Yeah.”

“You’re living together?” Rachel’s voice was so piercing that Alice had to hold the phone away from her ear.

“I guess, yeah. As roommates, sort of.”

“What’s that like?”

Alice sank down on the corner of the bed. “It was kind of weird at first, but it’s not so bad. He’s a nice guy.”

Rachel snorted. “That’s not what I heard.”

“What does that mean? What did you hear?”

“You know as well as I do he flirts with everything on two legs.”

“That’s just his personality. He’s all bark and no bite.”

“Yeah, that’s not what Janie in makeup said. From what I’ve heard, the guy’s slept with most of his female costars, half the hair and makeup departments, and he’s made a pretty good dent in wardrobe too. He’s practically a sex addict.”

“That’s an exaggeration.” As far as Alice had been able to discern, Griffin had been effectively celibate for the last month. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Are you telling me he’s never once put the moves on you?”

“Never once.”

“Oh.” Rachel’s tone was pitying.

Alice supposed it was sort of pitiful. On the one hand, she was grateful Griffin hadn’t hit on her while she was living with him. But on the other…it was hard not to feel a little insulted. Why hadn’t he? Was there something wrong with her? Was she not hot enough for him to try to sleep with?

Alice bit down on her thumbnail. “He doesn’t see me that way, is all.”

“Right. Gotcha.” Rachel’s voice was bitter. “Because we’re not people, we’re just extras, right? Even he won’t lower himself that far.”

“It’s not like that.” She and Griffin were friends—sort of. “He’s my employer, technically. He probably just thinks it would be skeevy.” Which it would. Further proof that he was a nice guy and not some out-of-control sex addict.

“So what’s his house like?”

“Nice. It’s not huge or anything. Just a regular two-bedroom in Studio City. Great view though.”

“What’s he like when he’s not at work?”

“Pretty much the same as when he’s at work, only quieter.”

Rachel groaned in disappointment. “Come on, you’ve got to have some dirt to share.”

“I don’t. He’s pretty boring, really. He’s on this ridiculous diet for the movie he’s about to do, so he mostly just eats protein and goes to the gym.”

“That’s depressing.”

It was, a bit. On top of his hefty shooting schedule for LV Gen, Griffin spent two hours training at the gym every day and basically had to force himself to choke down ungodly amounts of protein. Now that Alice had seen how hard he worked for that body, she had even more respect for it. “He does have the abs though. Like, all the time.”

“Nice! At least you’re getting something out of this arrangement.”

“Enough about me and my boring living arrangement,” Alice said, changing the subject. “I want the scoop on you and Pete.”

Griffin was kept busy all day with packing and travel preparations. Three months was a long time to be away, and he bustled around the house with a harried expression as he made last-minute arrangements and wrote up lists for Alice with emergency phone numbers and reminders about things like paying the cleaning woman and the gardener.

That night, he grilled steaks for the two of them again, and after they’d eaten they sat on the back deck taking turns throwing a tennis ball for Taco as they watched the sun go down.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Griffin said wistfully.

Alice told herself he was talking about Taco and the house, not her specifically. Why would he miss her? She’d only been part of his life for a few weeks. She passed the tennis ball to him. “I bet you’ll be so busy the time will fly. It’ll be over before you know it.”

He chucked the ball into the yard. “Do you think Taco’ll forget about me? I’m not sure dogs have object permanence. As soon as I’m gone, he’ll probably think I’ve winked out of existence.”

Alice thought about it as Taco proudly returned the ball to his owner. “Maybe that’s why dogs are always so happy to see you when you come home. Because they think you stop existing as soon as you’re out of sight.”

Griffin’s brow furrowed as he tossed the ball again. “His brain is the size of a ping-pong ball, so maybe.”

It was an interesting theory, but Alice didn’t like the frown on Griffin’s face. “He’s not gonna forget about you. Are you kidding? Your scent’s all over the house—and you’ve seen those videos of soldiers coming back and surprising their dogs. Those dogs definitely did not forget.”

“That’s true, I guess.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Alice said, noticing the way Griffin’s fingers were clenched on the arm of the chair.

He nodded abstractly. “I hate starting a new job. Always do.”

“Why?”

“Acting is…” He paused and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It requires a certain amount of vulnerability. At least for me it does. Tapping into that in front of a bunch of strangers is always terrifying the first few days. It usually gets easier once I get to know people and start to feel more comfortable, but at first it’s fucking awful. There’s always this fear that I’m not good enough, that I don’t deserve to be there and I’m about to show my ass. That everyone will realize how much I suck.”

That was exactly how Alice had felt about graduate school. It was a shock to realize Griffin struggled just as much with imposter syndrome as she did. He’d always seemed so confident and laid back, but she was beginning to understand just how much effort he put into maintaining that appearance, and how much anxiety it disguised.

“You know that’s just your brain telling you lies, right?” she said. “I know how hard it can be to shut out those negative emotions when they start snowballing—believe me—but I’m here to tell you that you don’t suck. You’re objectively awesome.”

He reached a hand over his shoulder to scratch his back, looking uncomfortable. “Thanks. I really wasn’t fishing for compliments though.”

“I know. I wasn’t complimenting you. I was just stating a fact.”

He glanced over at her, a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth before his eyes darted away again. “Anyway, you’ll probably be glad to get rid of me and have the place to yourself. I imagine you’ll start throwing keggers as soon as I’m gone.”

Alice leaned over to pick up the ball Taco had dropped between them. “Not really my style. I’m more of a high tea person.”

“I guess it’s all right if you want to throw a high tea.”

“You sure? My high teas can get pretty wild. Sometimes I serve two kinds of jam with the scones.” She faked a throw, but Taco was too smart to run after it. He stayed where he was, swishing his tail expectantly.

“Wow. Okay, Queen Victoria. Let’s not go overboard.”

She tossed the ball for real and turned her head toward Griffin. “You know I’m not going to throw any parties while you’re gone, right?”

His impossibly blue eyes met hers. “You can have people over if you want. I trust you.”

It felt good to know he trusted her, but it was the way he was looking at her when he said it that made her feel warm all over. She dropped her eyes to the beer in her hand. “I’ll probably just work on my dissertation the whole time.”

“How’s that going?”

Her thumbnail scraped at the label. “Okay, I guess. It’s hard, getting back into it after all these months, but I’m feeling more motivated than I have in a while.” A circumstance she owed largely to Griffin. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever repay him for this opportunity to throw herself back into her schoolwork worry-free.

“I expect you to have a PhD by the time I get back.”

Alice snorted and took a swig of beer. “If only. At the earliest, I might be able to defend in time to graduate at the end of the summer. But more likely December.”

“So you’ll be Dr. Carlisle by Christmas.”

“Maybe.” It was hard to imagine the finish line after all this time, but it wasn’t actually that far away anymore.

“I expect an invitation to your graduation.”

She made a wry face. “Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

When she looked over at his earnest expression it made her chest feel tight, like someone had wrapped an Ace bandage around it. “I probably won’t even go to the ceremony.”

“Why the heck not?’

“Because they’re boring. And it’s not like I have any family who’ll insist on being there.” She had no desire to sit on a stage in a polyester gown for two hours, only to be greeted by a deafening silence when her name was called.

“When you said before you didn’t have a dad—”

“I have a dad,” she said. “He’s alive and well. He just doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Sorry if it’s a sore subject.”

She shook her head, not wanting Griffin to feel bad. “It’s fine.”

He gave her an appraising look. “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s fine.”

Alice shrugged. It wasn’t that she minded talking about her father, so much as she minded that he’d ever been a part of her life at all. “My parents divorced when I was five, and my dad got remarried to a woman who had two kids. I barely ever saw him at all—until my mom died and I had to go live with him and his new family.” She pressed her lips together, remembering the grudging manner in which she had been welcomed into her own father’s home, and the cold, resentful interactions that had marked the next five years. “Let’s just say we didn’t click. They didn’t want me there any more than I wanted to be there.”

“I’m sorry. It must have been awful.”

“I got through it.” At this point, the pain felt distant, like an old injury that only ached when it rained. “I found a college out of state and I never went back.” She shrugged again. “I haven’t really talked to my father much since.”

“And he hasn’t tried to reach out to you?”

“Nope. I told you, he doesn’t give a shit.” She washed down the bitterness in her throat with a mouthful of beer.

Griffin’s gaze remained fixed on her for a moment, his expression soft and thoughtful, before he turned away. His eyes seemed to focus on the distant skyline as he ran a hand through his hair. It was a nervous tic he’d been displaying all day as he prepared for his imminent departure, and it had left his hair an endearingly tousled mess.

“I never knew my father,” he said quietly. “He didn’t want anything to do with my mom after she got pregnant. But maybe I was better off that way—even though it sucked for my mom, having to raise me alone.”

Alice took another swallow of beer. “Is it wrong that I wish I’d never known my dad?”

“No, I don’t think it’s wrong.”

“I guess it means I would have gone to foster care when my mom died, but at least in foster care you know why they don’t love you.”

The eyes Griffin turned on her were almost as dark as the sky overhead where a few faint stars had begun to glimmer. “Your dad’s an idiot.”

She tried to muster a smile. “So’s yours, for taking off before he got to meet you.”

He held her gaze for a moment before shaking off the heavy mood and reaching for the water bottle that was never far from his fingertips. “Oh hey, speaking of family—you should probably know I put you down as my emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.”

Alice blinked at him. “Me?”

Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair again. “I don’t have any family I’m close to, and you’re here taking care of my dog and my house and all my stuff. I figure if they’re gonna call anyone in an emergency, it should be you.”

“Oh, sure.” It was perfectly logical reasoning—which did not account for the very unreasonable rush of feelings it inspired.

“I thought about putting Boone down, but he’s up in Vancouver three-quarters of the year, and anyway he’d be fucking useless in an emergency. At least you’ll be able to keep a cool head and take care of shit.”

“Did you know I actually got my master’s degree in taking care of shit?”

Griffin’s mouth curved into a smile. “If you’re gonna be in charge of my personal affairs, I guess I should tell you my deep, dark secret.”

“You have a deep, dark secret?”

He nodded with theatrical seriousness. “My last name isn’t really Beach.”

Alice played along, giving him a look of wide-eyed interest. “You don’t say.”

“It’s Micklethwaite.”

“Griffin Micklethwaite.” She pronounced the syllables slowly, taking it for a test drive.

“Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?”

“No,” she agreed. “But I like it.”

It felt like he’d given her a gift. As if by sharing his real name he’d offered her a glimpse of his true self—the one he kept hidden behind his charming smiles and happy-go-lucky facade.

A lump formed in Alice’s throat. Who’d have thought, when she first moved in with Griffin, that she’d ever come to feel this close to him? And now it was all about to end. She wasn’t ready for that to happen.

Tomorrow he would get on a plane, and he’d be so busy adjusting to the new city and shooting his new movie that he’d forget all about her. Maybe she’d get a text from him occasionally to do with Taco or the house. But they wouldn’t talk. Not like this.

And then when he came back, she’d have to move out and that would be that. He’d go back to his life and she’d go back to hers.

They’d probably never see each other—unless he needed a dog sitter again.

Monday morning, Alice got up early to see Griffin off and help him roll his bags out to the hired car that would take him to the airport. It was a sleek black Town Car driven by a blond Eastern European named Ignas who was entirely too cheerful for six o’clock in the morning.

“Call if you need anything,” Griffin said as Ignas loaded the last bag into the sedan’s cavernous trunk. “Anything at all.”

“I will.” Alice scooped Taco off the ground and held him up to her face. “We’ll be fine though, won’t we, buddy?”

Griffin reached out to ruffle the dog’s head. “Be good. Don’t chase the neighbor’s cat or eat any poop while I’m gone.”

“I’ll do my best,” Alice said, which got a faint smile out of Griffin. “Don’t worry about us. Go do your movie star thing.”

“Right.”

Ignas had already shut the trunk and gotten behind the wheel, waiting to take Griffin away.

“You better get going,” Alice said.

Griffin nodded. For a second, he looked like he might be about to hug her, then seemed to decide against it. He bent to kiss the top of Taco’s head and gave her a jerky sort of goodbye nod instead.

Alice held Taco tight as Griffin walked to the car and got in the back seat. He paused with his hand on the door and looked back at her. “See you in three months.”

She bit her lip and waved goodbye.

After the Town Car backed down the drive, Alice went into the house and flopped down on the couch. The place was all hers now. She ought to be excited about that. It was what she’d been waiting for ever since she moved in.

So why did she feel like she’d just lost something important?