“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” she said carefully. “I wasn’t right for the book. It was me.” Muffy dropped her head onto her upturned hand. “I know, and I see the things that probably didn’t work for you.” She blinked several times as if she was fighting a rush of tears. “I just loved it so much. Like”—she pressed a hand to her chest—“I felt that book in my bones. It did things to me. And I needed you to love it the same way I did.” She slipped her fingers under the frames of her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I know that’s not fair. You’re allowed to love or not love whatever you want.”
