"That's what you want." His voice was very neutral, and Morgan, knowing him so well, knew that meant huge emotions were battling inside him.

"That's what we have already," she whispered. "This is not being lovers. I don't know what this is."

"All right," Hunter said. "All right. So you want me to settle down, is that it? In Cobh? Make a garden with you? Get a cat?" His voice didn't sound harsh-more despairing, as if he were truly trying to understand.

"That's not what I'm saying," Morgan said, barely audibly. "I want you to do what you want to do, what you need to do. I want you to be happy, to be fulfilled. I'm saying that I know that won't be with me in Cobh, with a garden and a cat." She brushed the sleeve of her sweater over her eyes.

Hunter was quiet. Morgan pulled the long ends of her sweater sleeves over her hands and leaned her face against them. Once this was over, she would breathe again. She would go back to the bed-and-breakfast, get in the shower, and cry.

"What if… things were different?" Hunter said at last.

Morgan drew a pained breath. "But things aren't different."

"Things are up to you and me," Hunter said. "You act like this is beyond our control. But we can make choices. We can change our priorities."

"What are you talking about?" Morgan wiped her eyes, then forced herself to take a sip of tea. It was thin and bitter.

Quickly Hunter reached across the table and took her hands in his, his grip like stone. "I think we need to change our priorities. Both of us."

"To what?" How could he manage to always keep her so off-kilter, even after four years?

"To each other," Hunter said.

Morgan stared at him, speechless.

"Morgan," Hunter went on, lowering his voice and leaning closer to her,"I've been doing a lot of thinking, too.