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. A

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 Mi

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.”

I perked up a little bit. “That sounds amazing. We’re adults after all. We should be able to spend the day how we want.”

She sat up straighter too. “Just because we don’t have families of our own, doesn’t mean we should be relegated to suffering with our parents for every holiday. Why not come up with our own thing?”

My rising spirits took a sharp plunge and I thought I would be sick. I didn’t want to make this about me. I didn’t want to spend our entire Black Friday psychoanalyzing my depression. But I couldn’t form words.

I couldn’t make anything come out of my mouth.

Kara noticed my change of mood immediately. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“You didn’t,” I rushed to assure her. “It’s just… I used to have a family, you know? It wasn’t much of one, but it was mine. And now… now I don’t. It’s just weird. It’s, uh, surreal. I’m not sure that I’ve entirely grasped the concept of being alone again.”

“Oh, babe,” Kara sighed. “You don’t have to grasp it yet. And I swear I wasn’t trying to rub it in your face. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“I know. God, I’m sorry. I hate that I’m so self-absorbed. I feel like you’re so sick of me, but I just can’t seem to stop. I thought it would get easier… instead, it just seems to get harder and harder.”

“I’m not sick of you,” Kara assured me. She pushed her wild red hair out of her face and leaned toward me. “I actually understand more than you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never told you this before because, well, honestly, I haven’t really told anyone in a very long time… It’s hard for me to talk about. Really hard. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. It’s just… I couldn’t make myself say the words.” I watched her intently; afraid that any change in my expression would spook her. I had no idea what she was going to say, but I felt the heavy importance of it. Finally, after a long pause in which she seemed to need to pull herself together, she said quietly, “I, uh, I was married before.”

“Wait, what?” I slid forward in my seat until I perched on the very edge. Kara had never even alluded to a previous marriage before. I knew she had some serious hang-ups with men, but I never could have imagined that they possibly stemmed from marriage! I took in a shuddering breath and had the worst feeling that I didn’t really know my best friend, that she was just as much of a mystery as the rest of the world.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she growled. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you or wanted to keep it a secret, it’s just that… well, it’s embarrassing! I try not to ever think about it, let alone actually talk about it. Besides, it was a long time ago and has nothing to do with who I am today.”

“It has something to do with who you are today,” I argued.

Her expression crumpled and I realized all of her bravado had been exactly that… just a show of bravery to hide her past wounds… her past agony.

“You’re right,” she sighed. “It does. But I’m serious when I say it was a long time ago. I’m a different person today. I moved on with my life. Really, I built a new life for myself. I just, I just wanted to let you know that I really do understand what you’re going through. And I also know that it gets better… that it won’t always hurt like this.”

“What happened? Tell me, please?”

She rolled her eyes at my soft tone but wiggled in a way that let me know she was gearing herself up for a conversation she didn’t want to have, but would have for me. “You know I have a… precarious relationship with my parents?” She lifted her eyebrows waiting for my acknowledgment. I nodded once and she continued, “They’ve always been overbearing, completely impossible. Ever since I can remember, they’ve always wanted to… control me. It’s always been difficult to live with their expectations, but especially during high school, and even more so when it came to my future and how I would live it out. They had a certain set of demands they wanted me to meet and I just wanted to, I don’t know, be a kid… be free. I just wanted to live out from under their thumb.”