Marcus unlocked the door and stepped into quiet.
He said it out loud. “Home."
Blair slipped in before the door closed, “You walked too fast," she said. “The elevator was slow."
“I didn't invite you," he replied without turning.
“And you looked…not good."
“I'm fine."
“You're not." She followed him through the foyer into the living room. pale wood, slate-gray sofa, a low table where tea trays sat neatly on coasters. Celeste had taken the plan and replaced the accents—soft blue pillows, a throw blanket with a woven edge, a ceramic bowl with indigo glaze. Blair took it in smiled. “It's beautiful," she said. “I always loved what you did with it."
“What I did," he echoed, sinking into the sofa. “Sit if you're staying."
She lowered herself to the opposite cushion Blair spoke first. “It wa
