"Get in here," I grunted, wishing he'd just have left me alone. He had to have heard all of that. The whole sales floor probably did. The blinds on my office were shut, as normal, but there was no mistaking when I shot my mouth off.

"You okay?" he asked as he walked in and shut the door behind himself.

"No, I'm not. And I don't want to talk about it." I leaned back in my chair and ran both hands through my hair and then acrossmy face. I heard the chair groan as Sam sat down and inwardly, I winced.

"Ryan, we go way back. I've been your partner for fifteen years, or is it sixteen now?" I could already picture the look of chastisement on his face before I opened my eyes and looked at him. "What's going on? You're unhinged. You've never spoken to Marge like that before." Sam's voice took on a caring tone, and I shook my head in frustration.

I needed a friend to talk to. Normally, I'd have spoken to Walt about this, but he was definitely not the one I should be telling my dirty laundry to. The weight had just piled up on my chest, and without venting at all, the anger and heartbreak were consuming me.

"I need to tell you something in confidence…" I looked him square in the eye and clenched my jaw. Sam sat back in his seat and glanced at the door. It was shut. No one would hear what we had to say.

"Go ahead," he said, and he cleared his throat.

The minute I opened my mouth, everything poured out—my flirting with Carrie that turned into this wild fling, the fact that I'd fallen in love with her and Walt and Helen knew nothing, the rumors the town had been passing around. I left nothing in the dark, and to my utter shame, I even let a tear slip out. I was better than all of this, stronger too, and I'd been reduced to such a low mental state, I couldn't function. No other woman in the world had power over me like this but Carrie, and now she was walking away.

"She's been keeping me at arm's length now ever since Walter's second stay in the hospital, making excuses as to why she can't spend time with me. I get it, the town is talking, but?—"

"That girl has had more than her share of trouble, Ryan. She's only home to take care of her father. Maybe she's just spending time with him." Sam's eyebrows drew together in compassion, and I knew he was right. Things just felt so out of control. I didn't know how I'd ever feel okay again.

"When Kate left, I didn’t think I'd ever love again, Sam. Carrie is different. I can't lose her." I knew there was nothing Sam could do about any of this, but somehow, telling him did make me feel better.

"Take some time to just process things, man. Give her some space…" Sam stood and let himself out of my office, and while I knew what he said was probably the smart thing, it wasn't the right thing for me.

I had to talk to her or I was going to lose my mind. I just didn't want to push her to the point where she stopped talking to me entirely. How did I ever let this happen?

25

CARRIE

Dad and Mom drove away in Mom's car, headed to his therapy. I watched from the window feeling so sad and heavy. Ten days until Christmas, and I should’ve been filled with hope and joy. Instead, I was the complete opposite. I was so down and depressed, I felt like I could barely breathe.

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the ache that wouldn’t leave me. My stomach twisted and roiled in a physical reminder of the stress, but I didn’t have time to wallow in it. I just wanted relief. I grabbed my phone, staring at the screen for a second before tapping Ethan’s name. Within seconds, his face appeared on the screen, his usual grin present, but it quickly faded when he saw me.

“Oh, no,” he said, eyebrows knitting together. “Care Bear, what happened?”

The nickname almost broke me right then and there. I pressed my hand to my chest, the tears already welling up, and Ethan sighed. “Let it out, babe. Tell me.”

“I’m in love with him,” I choked out, and the tears finally spilled down my cheeks. “And I can’t have him.” Saying it out loud just made it hurt so much more. I wanted the world to know, I wanted Ryan to know, but there was no point in even telling him. He would only be hurt worse once he found out about the baby, once I left for Chicago.

Ethan’s expression softened. “Oh, Carrie…”

“I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me insane, Ethan. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but he’s… he’s not mine. And he never will be.” I pressed the heel of my hand against my eyes, trying to hold back the sobs, but it was useless.

Ethan sat back in his chair, a deep frown on his face. "Alright, let's just take this one thing at a time. Start with why you think it won't work out between you two."

I sniffled and sucked in a few stuttering breaths before I was calm enough to tell Ethan what was going on. My head throbbed just thinking of how I'd ever unravel this, and I was glad my best friend always had my back.

"Okay, well for starters, he's my dad's best friend."

"Tell me something new, sugar. Let's skip the repeats and cut to the chase." Ethan grinned at me, but I wasn’t feeling playful at all. It almost made me start crying again. I hated these stupid pregnancy hormones.

"Okay, well he's fifteen years older than me. Or more… And his first marriage failed because he didn't want children. So there's that." I used my sleeve to wipe my eyes and curled up on the sofa and lay down. Then I propped my phone on the coffee table against my coffee mug which was now empty and cold.

"And?"

"And he is rooted in this town. He asked me to stay here." I didn't have to explain to Ethan why that was a very bad thing for me. He knew. He'd heard all the stories.

"Ouch… So he wouldn’t relocate to Chicago?" He winced as he spoke.