"Is that so?"

Barclay grabbed a damp tissue, leisurely wiping his hands.

Moira felt her hand tremble beneath her as she heard his words.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "Mr. Covington, you go on to work. Sometimes I just don't have much of an appetite."

Barclay looked at her for a moment. "Okay."

He didn't press further, rising from the table and leaving.

He took a couple of steps before halting, then turned back to glance at Moira, who seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks for yesterday afternoon," he said.

"It's a trifle. Never mind."

She was the one who needed more help than he did.

Barclay shifted his gaze away and turned to head upstairs.

Soon enough, Moira saw him descending, his tie neatly done.

"Take care, Mr. Covington."

Moira waved her hand. Barclay gave her a brief nod before exiting.

the sound of a car

and turned to

make the most of her time, familiarizing herself with the pieces and getting them all

wouldn't do

were on the sheet

mistake,

around it. Barclay's words in her

closed the piano lid and lay on top of it for a while,

was best to consult Juliet, who may be single but had plenty of experience

sent a very gloomy

quickly typed back. [What's wrong, dear? This emoji doesn't quite match the blissful married life you're supposed

to explain. [I've encountered

Tell me about it, and I'll help you sort it

to type

then hesitated and deleted it.

moment of consideration, she

be direct. [Juliet,

Barclay would like someone like

Moira for so many years, Juliet immediately sensed that something was off. [You've developed feelings

in

accuracy in guessing caught

help but like him involuntarily! If you like him, just go for it. What's there to be so

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