“Why not?”

The truth was because they don’t deserve it. But I couldn’t tell Annalise that. She’d spend every last minute of the time we had left together trying to prove me wrong.

I looked away, because I couldn’t look into her eyes and lie. “Because I like being single. I like my freedom and not having to answer to anyone or have any responsibilities. You want candles and flowers on Valentine’s Day, and you deserve to get what you want.”

She swallowed and nodded her head. I decided it was about time I answered nature’s call. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. You want something?”

“No, thank you,” she whispered sadly.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t been wrong. By the time my feet hit the ground, my feeling of contentment was long gone.

***

She avoided me for days after that.

And I let her. We weren’t fighting or pissed off at each other. When we passed in the hall, we put on fake smiles, and she made up some excuse about an appointment she had to run to that I knew from stalking her calendar she didn’t have. Yet I didn’t call her out on it. There was no point.

It was starting to feel like our relationship had run its natural course, and the best night of sex of my life had turned out to be our swan song. It was probably for the best—put a little space between us, and it would make things easier. Our presentations to Star were next week, and Pet Supplies was scheduled for the beginning of the week after that. What was the point of keeping things going?

Yet I couldn’t stop myself.

Her door was shut, but I knew she was still in there. We were the only two left in the office at almost nine o’clock on Thursday night. I was also fucking starving.

I knocked on her office door after rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Come in.”

I held up a tin-foiled sandwich in my hand. “You hungry? I’ll split with you.”

She sighed. “Starving, actually.”

I walked to her desk and handed her half a PB&J.

Annalise licked her lips and took it, though she stopped with it halfway to her mouth. “Wait…this is yours, right?”

I grinned. “Just eat it. I’ll come in early in the morning and replace it.”

She glanced longingly down at the sandwich and back to me. “This is Marina’s, isn’t it?”

I bit half of my half off in one gigantic bite and spoke with my mouth full. “Mmmmm. It’s so fucking good.”

The corners of her lips twitched, but she bit into her half anyway. “You’re corrupting me.”

“I thought you were enjoying me corrupting you.” I tilted my head. “But you seem to have been too busy for that the last few days.”

Annalise’s smile fell. “Oh. Sorry. I’ve been…swamped.”

I glanced over her desk. Her laptop was shut, and a stack of files had been neatly piled up.

“Looks like you’re just finishing up.” I caught her gaze. “So does that mean you’re free tonight?”

She stared at me for a few heartbeats and then raised one hand to cover her mouth while she opened it for an obvious pretend yawn. “I’m really wiped out. Maybe another night.”

I knew she’d lied even before her skin started to blush, yet I let her off the hook anyway.

I nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I’m tired, too.”

***

I hadn’t been lying. I was tired.

Yet I didn’t go home.

Instead, I hit up the shithole bar closest to the office and ordered a double scotch. And then another one. And then another. Until the bartender told me he’d give me one last drink only if I handed him my cell phone.

I tossed it on the bar and slurred my words. “That’s an expensive drink. But go ahead…keep it. Just give me the damn thing.”

The bartender took my phone in one hand and poured me a drink with the other. He raised a brow. “What’s her name?”

“Annalise.” I laughed maniacally. “Or Sophia. Take your pick.” I tipped my glass toward him, and half of it sloshed onto the bar. “And she looks fucking great in a cowboy hat.”

“Which one we talking about? Annalise or Sophia?”

“Annalise. Beautiful, man. Just beautiful.” I swallowed a big gulp of my drink.

“I’m sure she is. I’m calling you an Uber. Where you heading after that drink?”

“She thinks I’m a dick.”

The stoic bartender sighed. “Pretty sure she might be right about that. What address you going to, buddy?”

“I don’t deserve her.”

“I’m sure you don’t. What about that address?”

I knocked back the contents of my glass. “Are you married?”

He held up his left hand. “Sixteen years.”

“How’d you know you loved her?”

“If you give me an address to call this damn Uber, I’ll tell you how I knew.”

I rattled off the address. He typed into my phone and then slid it across the bar to me. “You know that saying if you love something, set it free, and it will come back to you?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head. “Well, that’s a crock of shit. If you love someone and you set her free, she might come back with herpes. So get over yourself and lock that shit down before you get an STD.” He paused. “Your Uber will be here in four minutes, so you should start walking your drunk ass to the curb right about now.”

***

“We’re here.”

The driver’s voice jolted me awake. Slumped in the backseat, I must’ve dozed off on the short ride home.

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, man.”

It took me a few tries, but I managed to find the door handle and open the damn thing. I even stumbled out without falling on my face. The Uber driver mustn’t have been as impressed with how well I’d done, because he didn’t stick around to watch me make it to the door. He had his foot pressed to the floor to get the hell out of there before I could even finish swaying enough to walk the three steps to the curb. But I waved goodbye anyway.

Somehow I made my way to the front door. Luckily, when two-hundred-and-twenty pounds leans forward on the verge of falling over, it also propels a lot of momentum. I spent five minutes trying to get the key in the lock, but the damn thing wouldn’t work. I’d started to think someone had come to my place and changed the fucking lock.

I took a step back and squinted at the door, attempting to get a good look at the lock. But then the door swung open.

What the fuck?

Stumbling back, I blinked a few times.

“What the hell are you doing?” Fanny pulled her robe tight.

I’d gone to the wrong house?

Fuck.

Maybe I didn’t.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” I swayed back and forth. “I didn’t know how she felt.”

“It’s after midnight. I should call the goddamn police.”

I looked down and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I’d said the words so many times eight years ago. They did nothing for either of us back then. But what did I expect? Forgiveness? Forgiveness doesn’t change the past.

“You want me to tell you it’s okay? It’s not. Lucas told me about the girl you brought to Disney. You want me to accept your apology so you can move on without a guilty conscience? Is that what this is about? My daughter doesn’t get to move on, does she?”

No, she doesn’t. I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

“You know what sorry does?”

I looked up and met her angry eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

The door slammed in my face before I could say another word.

Chapter 38

* * *

December 1st Dear Me,

We’re pregnant.

Not exactly what we’d planned, huh?

It’s a long story, but it happened when we went to Minnetonka with Mom two months ago. Remember the cute guy we met at the bar when we snuck out after Mom went to sleep?

Yup. That’s him.

He seemed like such a nice guy.

Until we showed up at his house to tell him we were pregnant two weeks ago, and…

…his wife answered the door.

His wife! The jerk had said he didn’t even have a girlfriend!

We haven’t told Mom yet. She’s not going to be happy.

The only person in the world who knows is Bennett. The day after I told him, he drove home for the weekend to make sure we were okay. We pretended to be. But we’re not, really.

I secretly wish we were carrying Bennett’s baby. He’d be so good to us and such a good dad. I really do love him—different than the way best friends should love each other.

This poem is dedicated to Lucas or Lilly.

Thunder breaks above

dark clouds gather in the sky

sun will shine someday

This letter will self-destruct in ten minutes.

Anonymously,

Sophie

Chapter 39

* * *

Bennett

It felt like a marching band had taken up residence inside my skull.

The dull pounding ratcheted up to full-on percussion jam session anytime I attempted to raise my head from the pillow.

What the hell did I drink last night?

And what time is it?

I felt around my nightstand for my phone, but it wasn’t there. Rolling over, I pried one eye open and met a stream of light coming in through the blinds.