Bucky had carved up a decent size chunk of cake, so they could both have a piece. He didn't think Steve would mind, since there was still nearly half of it left. Mostly he just offered the cake to get out of talking about stuff. Sometimes he'd think that people were right, that he should forgive himself and move on, but then he would start to think about all the things he had to move on from and he'd decide it was better just to not think about it. Or talk about it. To anyone.
He'd been to her place already once on the previous Saturday, so it was easy to find. He tapped on the door, cradling a disposable tupperware tub under his real arm.