She’d surprised him. This was her place, after all. Her primary place of residence. “Why don’t you want to stay?”
“It just doesn’t feel…right. I can’t explain it any better than that. The coffee, the Coke, the shoes. This carpet, that window. I feel as though they belong to another life. To another me.” She made an embarrassed noise. “That really does sound nuts, doesn’t it?”
She was frowning and he reached out to smooth her brow.
“You haven’t lived here for a while, that’s all.”
“I guess. Although, when I look around, I wonder if I ever lived here. I was always so busy working. Those books out in the living room—I’ve probably read about ten percent of them. I think I’ve used the oven only half-a-dozen times. When I bought this place after the divorce, I thought it would be great for d
