Every Wrong Reason

They saw two people acting crazy, but they couldn’t possibly understand how hurtful Nick’s accusations were.

I wanted nothing more than a baby. I wanted nothing but for my nights to be interrupted by feedings and my arms to be filled with the likeness of Nick or me. I ached with the need. My bones hurt and my spirit shattered with the frustration and disappointment of not being able to conceive.

This was the lowest he could go.

This was the very bottom.

I stood up straighter and sniffled. “We’re finished.” I started gathering up my papers. “I’m done for tonight. We’ll have to reschedule.”

Ryan tried to argue, “But we’re not-”

Mr. Cavanaugh leaped to my defense. “That’s an excellent idea, Ms. Carter.” He turned his attention to Ryan. “We’ll be in touch when we want to reschedule.”

Ryan glanced wildly at Nick. “It’s fine,” Nick nodded. “This was a lot for one day.”

My chin trembled with the effort to hold back my tears. I swallowed thickly and brushed at the corner of my eye.

I took a step back, the high back leather chair rolling smoothly out of my way.

“There’s one last request that we didn’t discuss,” Ryan’s cold voice caught me before I could leave the room. “I think it’s in your best interest if we bring it up now. That way you’ll have time to digest his demand.”

My words tasted like sand and dirt, “What is it?”

“The dog, Ms. Carter,” Ryan answered coolly. “My client would like ownership of the dog.”

I saw red. My vision literally blanketed in crimson red and I thought for a second I would fly over the table and choke the life out of Nick. I couldn’t even see his face when I responded. I couldn’t see anything except red and violence and pure, unadulterated fury.

“Fuck you.” And with that graceful, classy reply, I fled the conference room, the office building and if I had had anywhere to go outside of Chicago, I would have fled the state too.

Instead, I went back to my house and crawled into bed without changing clothes or even taking my coat off. Annie jumped up on the bed with me and with sweetness only she could show, licked my nose and laid her little head on my hand. That was when I finally lost it. Completely.

I held her close to my chest for as long as she would let me and cried, no, sobbed until the sun came up.

God, I hated divorce.





Chapter Fifteen


22. It’s too late for us.




“Am I late?” Kara tossed her coat on the empty chair between us and threw her purse down. Her pale cheeks were rosy from the blustery wind outside and her hair was wild from the short walk to the coffee shop.

Starbucks. Not Eli’s alternate reality coffee purgatory.

“No, I’m early.” I smiled at her, but my face felt oddly stretched and uncomfortable.

The barista at the end of the counter called her name and she left me for a moment to pick up her giant macchiato. She sat back down a minute later and held up her hand for me to stay quiet while she took the first sip of her drink.

This time when I smiled it was small but natural.

“You look like hell,” she murmured after she’d gotten her fix.

“I feel like hell.”

“How was Thanksgiving?”

I thought back to the day spent at my parents’ house. Josh and Emily hadn’t been there. They’d traveled to Emily’s parents’ in Minnesota for the week. It had been an awkward six hours. My dad had spent the entire day watching football and my mom had spent it trying to overfeed me and grill me about Nick.

The turkey took two hours longer than it was supposed to and my pie didn’t turn out-a fact my mother couldn’t help but point out. More than once.

“Awful,” I finally told Kara. “How was yours?”

“Equally awful. Next year let’s have our own celebration. We’ll start new traditions, drink wine all day long and wear sweatpants.”

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