Page 35 of Christmas in His Arms

I thought she'd just moved on, that she finally remembered the promise we made to each other in the beginning and felt bad about pushing me. We made up and that was that. In fact, I remembered the sex being better than ever, like we were really connecting. Until months later, when she came back and told me she was pregnant. She'd gone off her birth control and never told me a thing.

The level of betrayal I felt was soul crushing. I remembered the promise she made me on more than one occasion, that she would never get pregnant. She was so sincere. We were on the same page. My heart had fully trusted in her, and that trust was ripped from me in a split second, and it tore us apart. We started sleeping in separate bedrooms, passed like ships in the night without conversation. I didn't think I'd ever trust her again.

And when she miscarried, she blamed it on me, saying the stress of all the arguing was what caused her to lose the baby. She left and never looked back, and I was only a husk of the man I was supposed to be for months, years even—until Carrie.

My fingers curled around the cup so hard, I thought I'd break it. I didn't want to remember Kate and what happened. I didn't want to think about how scarcely we were divorced before shehad an accident and died. I didn't want to replay those memories over and over in my mind, but the instant I heard Carrie's confession to her friend, that she was pregnant now, all I could see was Kate's face—the anger I felt and how betrayed I'd been… and how that smile she had lit up the whole room.

I downed the glass of whiskey and set the glass down, then reached for the bottle and brought it to my lips to drink. Carrie had given me the same promise—she swore there was no way she could get pregnant—and like a fool, I had believed her. I was so foolish to allow my desire for her to override my sensibilities, and I let my lust drive me. We had unprotected sex several times, and each time, I ignored that niggling in my chest that warned me this could happen. I trusted when I shouldn't have.

Raking a hand through my hair, I thought of my many interactions with Walt's family over the past six weeks and how I'd seen the interactions between them, and the love. I wanted a family now. I'd already decided that life would be too lonely without that. Growing old without anyone to pass my love and memories on to, without someone to care for me in my old age, just sounded depressing.

When Carrie tried to follow me after that shock, I just bolted. I didn't stop to think how my heart was changing. I didn't think about how she'd feel or what the future might look like. I could only see Kate's face. I could only feel the pain in my chest like a dagger of betrayal. She said she'd explain it to me, that it wasn’t' what I was thinking, but what explanation could there be? She lied. She told me she wouldn't get pregnant and she did.

I was seething mad. So much so that I ignored seventeen calls from Carrie in the past three days. Helen invited me over for dinner, and even Walter reached out to call me, but I ignored them all. I didn't even pick up when Sam called to check on someinvoices that needed to be sent for work, though I did shoot him a text to answer his questions. I just couldn’t talk to anyone.

The trauma I endured at Kate's hand had an iron grip on me, and even now, the whiskey couldn't budge it. It was so tight, I'd locked myself in a state of drunken numbness and I wasn’t coming out without a miracle.

I took a long swig from the bottle and rested my head on the backrest behind me. My eyes fluttered shut as the swirl of alcohol made my head spin. I wasn't upset that Carrie had gotten pregnant. That part was still churning inside my gut with a mix of apprehension, intrigue, and joy. I was going to be a father, and so much sooner than I thought.

What made me mad was how similar this was to Kate. How Carrie promised me—how she absolutely swore there was no way she could even get pregnant. Just the way Kate had. And now here we were. How could I ever trust anything she said again? How could I even know what was the truth or what to believe?

So I sat on my couch stewing and obsessing over my past and how damaged I was. I ignored phone calls from her to avoid saying something I'd later regret because we were going to have a baby together. Whether we'd ever be able to work this out or not was still yet to be seen. But I did want to be a part of my child’s life. And I didn't want to have bad blood between me and my child's mother for any reason. I just needed time to think things through and decide how I felt to know whether I could salvage anything with Carrie.

When I was settled, I'd come out of hiding and have that talk. For now… I drank.

27

CARRIE

Sitting around the house was boring enough, but add to that being tortured by the fact that Ryan hadn't responded to any of my texts asking to talk or the voicemails I left for him telling him I needed to explain what was going on. It wasn't something I wanted to discuss over the phone because I figured he would end up not even believing me and thinking it was a story.

So today I forced myself out of the house. I'd sat there for the past five days moping and feeling sorry for myself and eventually ceasing my attempts to contact Ryan. My heart was broken and overwhelmed, but it was for the best. It was inevitable, anyway. Ryan was always going to find out, and he was always going to be upset with me. When he eventually stopped hating me long enough to contact me, I could explain the baby wasn’t his and even submit to paternity testing if he wanted.

Now, I was following the advice Ethan gave me during one of my sobbing sessions on a video call. I could've decided to go home to Chicago and hide there, but I was home for Christmas now. And with just a week left, I needed gifts. I'd already decided I wantedto buy my father something special, a weekend getaway for him and Mom in the Twin Cities at the mall. I knew how much he loved it, and after the stroke, making memories was the most important thing to him now.

For Mom, I thought a new sweater would be nice. The tear in her old one made it look a bit shabby, and she was the sort of person who didn’t throw something out unless it's worthless. I knew she'd appreciate it too, and that was what mattered most to me.

I'd been to a few different stores looking for the perfect sweater, and I picked up a few different blouses along the way for myself. When I finally gave up the search at big box stores, I headed to the little boutique on Main Street down by the court square. I was trying to avoid it after the whole town saw Ryan and me kiss, but Mom had a very particular style. It was my best shot at finding the sweater she'd love.

The bell overhead chimed as I walked in, and immediately, I felt eyes on me. I tried to pretend I didn't notice, but Judy Baker and another woman I didn't recognize were already whispering. I moved toward the sweaters on the wall to my left and immediately, one drew my eye. It was a soft pink cashmere with a braided rib pattern around the hems and cuffs. When my fingers brushed over it, I felt how soft it was and smiled. I knew Mom would love it.

After spending the past few hours looking all over town, I was upset with myself that I hadn't just come here to begin with. I figured this place was the one where I'd find what I needed, and I assumed I would likely end up only finding what I needed here, but the thought of putting up with people's nasty comments deterred me. It was a shame, really, because they really did have beautiful clothing here.

After sorting through the sweaters to find Mom's size and checking the price tag to make sure I could afford it, I headed for the registers. Judy was still there, lingering by the woman at the register, and her stern look of disapproval was foreshadowing for what I was about to go through. I took a deep breath to try to anchor myself and then made the final few strides to the counter.

"That all for you today?" the woman at the register asked as I slid the sweater across the smooth wooden counter. Judy didn't budge. She stood staring at me like a carrion bird waiting to pick my bones clean.

"Yeah, just this." I avoided eye contact and reached into my purse for my debit card. The cashier rang me up but not without taking forever. Judy stared at me the whole time, and as I slid my card to the other woman, Judy started in on me.

"You know, the whole town saw you kissing Ryan Hawthorne under the mistletoe." I felt like I was back in high school with a bully who just wanted to humiliate me.

"Yeah, we got caught under it." I was nervous and feeling nauseous. Now would've been the perfect time for my morning sickness to flare up and I could vomit on her.

"Don't you think he's a little old for you?" she asked, and she rested her elbow on the counter. She was too close for me to be comfortable, but there was only one register in the shop, and I had to pay for the sweater before leaving. I wished she'd just go away.

"It's mistletoe, Ms. Baker. Everyone caught under it has to kiss. It's Christmas tradition." My tone was polite, but my words had an edge. I'd dealt with this sort of shit for far too long. It was whyI never wanted to move back here. I wanted to be as far away from here as possible.

"And is sneaking out in the middle of the night holiday tradition too?" she asked, and I felt a chill run across my skin. I hadn't snuck out of my parents’ house in almost fifteen years. Any "sneaking out" that had been done recently had been done by Ryan, not me. Which meant either she was talking about my life as a teenager and hashing up old gossip or someone had seen Ryan sneaking in and out of my parents’ house.

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