Page 37 of Christmas in His Arms

I'd run out of food. I had to DoorDash a few meals, and my stash of imported whiskeys was running out. I was miserable and looked every bit the part. But I had to go in to work today. With only a few business days left in the year, there were things only I could do.

Sam had helped me for as long as he could. He still hadn't asked me what was going on or if I needed to talk. I knew it was his way of supporting me silently because he knew what sort of man I was. It took a lot for me to open up after what happened with Kate and the way this town reacted. My inner workings always stayed private. He was lucky I even opened my mouth at all.

With nothing left to use as an excuse for procrastination, I grabbed my keys and headed to the dealership. Even my eyes had to readjust to life outside of my house. The sunlight reflecting off the snowpack was blinding, but I managed to finally stop squinting by the time I pulled into the parking lot.

I turned a few heads when I walked into the office. After my blowup at Marge and then skipping almost two full weeks of work, I knew it got people's attention. My heart felt harder than granite, but under that callused surface, it was so tender and raw. The searing glare and squared shoulders only served to keep people away, which was exactly what I intended.

I stalked directly to my office and locked myself in. I was here to finish some payouts and invoicing, and then I was going back to my house to hide until after Carrie was gone. If and when this heavy fog lifted off my heart, I would reach out and try to figure out a way for me to be a part of my child's life. Any trace of hope that Carrie and I could work things out had vanished after my ten-day bender. She lied. That was inexcusable. Unforgivable.

Forty minutes passed like a turtle. It felt like I'd been typing and ticking things off my list for days. My shoulders ached from being so drawn up and stiff. My stomach growled for food, but my heart craved more whiskey. My mind was so clouded, all I could think was what people were saying about me and whether Carrie had heard it. Whether she cared. And the war inside my heart raged.

A knock on my door perked my attention. I looked through the window and saw Marge there. She was facing sideways, staring out at the sales floor. I was her boss, and I'd been a recluse long enough that she probably wondered if she even still had a job. Of course, I'd pay her salary, but without me around, there wasn't a whole lot for her to do. She had her regular tasks, but mostof her days were spent helping me and taking on menial tasks I couldn’t fit into my hours.

When she looked up at me, I curled two fingers at her to beckon her inside. She jiggled the handle, and I remembered that I'd locked it. So I got up and walked to the door and opened it for her. When she slunk inside, I got the impression that it was with her tail between her legs. Her eyebrows here pulled together in the middle and she frowned slightly. She stepped into my office and I moved back to give her space. As I did, she shut the door and then folded her hands in front of herself.

"Sir," Marge said, her head hanging.

"What do you need?" My tone wasn't hostile or angry, but it wasn’t inviting. I didn't want her to cross any more boundaries, which I thought I'd made clear. But some people had to learn the hard way.

"Well, sir… Ryan," she said, looking me in the eye bravely, "I just wanted to apologize." Marge paused and blotted her lips, then her eyes dropped again. "You were right. I was out of line. I had no right to talk about your personal life or choices, and I hope you will forgive my overstep. I want you to know your words had their impact." She nodded once, then reached for the door, and I couldn't let her just leave.

As much as I hated the town gossip and just wanted it to stop, Marge and I had worked together a long time. She'd never been as bad with the gossip when Kate died or during my divorce. I knew other people probably fueled her rumor spreading this time, and I knew she really did feel sorry.

"Marge, wait…"

She stopped and turned back to me, but her hand rested on the doorknob. "Yeah, Boss."

"Thank you for saying that. I appreciate that you understand how your words made me feel. Apology accepted."

Marge only smiled softly and let herself out, and I went back to my desk and sat back down. If there was a single ray of sunshine in all of this, it was that my secretary had learned her lesson. Maybe when all of this blew over, we'd have a better relationship and a stronger team here at the dealership. If she proved herself like this again, I might even make her office manager and let her lead our team toward better things.

I worked a short time longer before Sam came knocking. I knew he'd be in to see me after my being away so long. He had a duty and a responsibility to the company and the brand we'd built to make sure I was on my game. I knew I probably put him in the lurch while I was gone, and as soon as this was over, I intended to rectify it.

"Well?" he sighed as he shut us both into the office and drew the blinds on my door. Then he sat down and made himself comfortable without my consent, but I knew I wasn't getting out of this without an explanation.

"Well, I didn’t take your advice and things got worse, if that wasn't obvious." I scowled at my own stupidity and scrubbed my beard with my hand. Even that hadn't been trimmed in days, and I probably looked like a bush man.

"What'd you do?" he asked with a tinge of disappointment in his tone.

"I went to see her, okay?" I looked out the window and let my gaze wander over the lot. At least my eyes had fully adjusted and I wasn't squinting anymore.

"Christ, Ryan, I told you to give it space. What happened? You two argued?" He leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.

"Never got the chance… I was an idiot. I used their hide-a-key and let myself in, thinking I'd surprise her, and I overheard something I shouldn't have." That moment still felt like a dagger in my chest. I rubbed the spot that hurt and winced. Why did heartbreak have to feel like being stabbed?

"And?" he prompted, clearly not happy with my explanation. An argument with someone I wasn't even dating was no reason for missing ten days of work, especially as part owner of a car dealership.

"She's pregnant…" Just saying the words aloud made me feel so many emotions. I was thrilled to announce to my good friend that I'd be a father. I was never happier to know that. But I felt stripped bare, as if the weight of a thousand rumors had disrobed me and was publicly humiliating me. What would people think about me? After everything with Kate, I knocked Carrie up and now I couldn’t even talk to her.

"Wow…" Sam sat back in his seat and rubbed his balding head. Then he sat in silence for a few minutes. It was a very long time for two grown men to sit in the same room, staring at each other without talking. Any other man and I'd have been squirming and uncomfortable, but Sam was the only one who knew my secret, and since it'd gotten worse, I figured he might as well know it all now.

"Yeah, wow…" I sighed. "I haven't spoken to her again, but I'm just gutted."

"You're really doing this again? You didn't learn your lesson before?" I knew Sam meant well, and his hard words were warranted, but he didn't have the full story.

"Alright, hear me out… I think I actually want this baby, Sam. I want to be a dad now. I watched Walter go through all of this for the past two months, and I've realized that when I get old and I'm falling apart physically, I'll have no one to care for me. I want a family." My chest squeezed uncomfortably as he responded.

"And? You can't be with her then? Is it Walter and Helen? Are they keeping you away?" Sam seemed concerned now, as if there were anything he could even do.

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