Emmett hadn’t been the first person to mistakenly think that Stella was my wife, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

But his reaction had certainly been the worst so far. The painful part about it was that I agreed with him—if Stella and I had actually been married, and if I’d been cheating, that would have been an asshole move.

I completely understood Emmett’s response. But the fact was that I didn’t have a wife.

I just needed to find a way to tell him the truth—and to properly apologize to him.

“Alternative families” got a lot of press in modern news, but actually living in one was a whole different ballgame. Misunderstandings with strangers happened on a daily basis, and it was something I’d had to get used to.

My life was weird. Even I could admit that. But cheating was the last thing in the world I’d ever do.

The real story was much simpler.

* * *

Stella had been my best friend since day one of college. She’d lived in the dorm room across from me at Columbia, and when my roommate began hooking up with her roommate every night, Stella and I ended up spending a whole lot more time together than we’d ever have guessed.

Our connection was instant. She was a lesbian; I was gay. Other than that, it was as if we were identical twins. She and I had both double-majored in business and computer science and commiserated that it was dry and boring, but that our practical degrees were sure to get us good jobs.

And they did get us good jobs. We both were employed at software firms in the big city straight out of college.

She’d been my best friend throughout the entirety of my nine-year-long relationship with Joseph. She’d been the one to cook me food and let me cry on her couch when Joseph finally left me. I was thirty years old, and it had been my first heartbreak.

And then, a decade after college had ended, we’d both had long-term relationships fail us. We both tried to fill the loneliness in our lives with work. You could have called us “workaholics,” but that would be far too generous of a term. Our work lives defined us, to the detriment of everything else. My bank account grew, but every night, I went home to an empty house that matched my empty life.

I wanted a family. She wanted one too. When we’d get coffee together on rushed mornings before work, we would sigh watching infants pass by in strollers.

And then one day, after far too many glasses of red wine, Stella said something totally crazy.

“Maybe we should just have a baby together.”

I nodded and smiled, acting like it was just another joke. But the comment never left my mind. It became a running joke, for us—“Hey, we aren’t getting any younger, and we’ve both got good genes!” we’d say.

And then, on her thirty-fifth birthday, a long conversation that started in tears ended with a resolution.

We were going to do it. We were going to have a baby together. We wouldn’t be married—we were both far too gay to have an inkling of desire for one another—but we could raise a child together in joint custody.

We only lived a few blocks away from one another, in the East Village in Manhattan. We were both well-off, healthy, and trusted each other like no one else in the world. We could give a kid a great life that neither of us had growing up.

Eighteen months later, Anna Chan-Bretton was born. Our daughter was perfect and had already changed me in ways I could never have imagined.

The only thing that Stella and I felt was missing for Anna was a quiet upbringing. New York City was fun and hectic and fascinating—but it was a place we both felt was better suited to visit rather than grow up in.

And so we’d made the decision to move to Rose Falls. We’d visited the waterfalls a couple times on road trips to Canada, and it seemed like the perfect small town to relocate to. It was close enough that we could still travel to the city for work as needed, but our jobs allowed us to work remotely, and we jumped on that possibility.

I’d met Emmett on the first full day that Rose Falls had really started to feel like my home. He was intriguing and beautiful, despite clearly being pretty damn cynical, and I did something with him that I almost never do: casual sex.

If I did things like this more often, maybe I could have just let it go. But I was new in town, and the last thing I wanted was to be known as a despicable cheater right from the get-go.

No matter how furious Emmett might be with me, I had to go make things right.

* * *

The morning after the wedding, I stood across the street from Brew For You in my knit hat and scarf, bracing myself against the cold wind.

The weather had taken a turn for the colder after the wedding, and the sky was overcast as I stepped into the crosswalk, heading headlong toward what would likely be a bitter argument. I had exactly two more hours left until Stella was going to drop the baby back off at my house, and I needed to act quickly.

Doubt crept through me. The main reason this all felt wrong was that Emmett, if he was even there, would be working, and I didn’t want to interrupt that. But I didn’t know where else to find him.

The door handle was cold as I pressed it open, and a small bell sounded in the store. Most of the café was full of college students on their laptops, and at one table in the corner, two older people were reading the newspaper. My eyes floated toward the coffee bar, looking behind it as I pulled off my hat, running a hand through my hair.

There was a woman behind the counter with a shock of pink hair, and another guy currently grinding beans—maybe the same age as Emmett, but with much more boy-next-door looks.

Then, through a small window that led to the back of the shop, I saw him. An unkempt head of dark hair, all-black outfit, and the curve of a neck I’d kissed just last night. It was clearly Emmett.

“What can I get started for you today, sir?” the woman with pink hair said, appearing in front of me at the counter. I took a few steps forward toward her.

“Uh—I’ll just take a small coffee, thanks,” I said. I hadn’t even considered what I was actually going to do once I got to the front counter.

“Great! That’ll be a dollar twenty,” she said, and as I fumbled for my wallet, the back doors in the store swung open, and Emmett came through carrying a big bucket of ice. He didn’t see me, making a beeline for the front ice container and emptying the bucket into it. After grabbing the hot cup of coffee, I made my way to the side of the counter where he was standing, and I hovered there for a second, debating about whether or not I should speak up, before he looked up and saw me.

“Emmett,” I said, “I’m not here to bother you, I just wanted to ask if you had five minutes to talk—”

He rolled his eyes far into the back of his head, dropping the empty ice bucket to the floor. He glanced to the side at his coworkers and then glared back at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “Don’t come here. This is my work.”

“I know, I know—I’m really sorry, Emmett, but I didn’t know how else to find you. You…” I dropped my voice lower, not wanting to cause any scene at his workplace, “…you misunderstood, yesterday. I don’t… I’m not married.”

His eyes smoldered as they looked at me, and he paused for a moment as if he was trying to consider whether or not to have me thrown out of the store. He pulled in a deep breath, walking over to the other guy behind the bar.

“I’m gonna take five,” Emmett said to him, and a second later he was pulling off his black apron, fisting it into a ball in his hands, and coming out at the end of the bar. He didn’t even make eye contact with me as he made his way to the front of the store, and the little bell jingled violently as he pushed open the door, barreling outside.

I followed, pulling my hat on. Emmett was standing in the little alley at the side of the store, the gap in between Brew For You and a small Vietnamese noodle shop. The wind whipped even harder in the narrow, brick-lined space.

Emmett was only in a short-sleeved black T-shirt. He wrapped his arms around his body as he leaned against the wall, staring up at me.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked. “Here, take my coffee.” I held it out to him, and he shook his head. Dark circles hung under his eyes, stark against his pale skin.

He looked like some sort of beautiful wounded bird. I wanted to wrap him in my coat. I knew he’d hate it if I even offered.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, though I could hear shivers on his breath already. “We aren’t going to be out here longer than a minute. What do you want to say to me, Ryan? Is your name even really Ryan?”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Of course my name’s Ryan. I’m Ryan Bretton, and my daughter is Anna Chan-Bretton, and my best friend—not wife—is Stella Chan.”

Emmett stared at me blankly, his arms crossed in front of chest, teeth biting his bottom lip.

“Stella is as gay as a woman can be. Six on the Kinsey scale. And I am too. We have a daughter together, yes—but Stella and I have never even kissed, other than on the cheek.”

He was still silent, but as the moment stretched onward, he seemed to downgrade from actively hostile to just exhausted and upset. He looked at the ground, kicking away a stray cardboard coffee sleeve with the toe of his sneaker.

“I am so sorry, Emmett. I would have told you, but to be honest, I didn’t think it made any difference. I wasn’t exactly going to tell a hookup the whole weird story of my strange family.”

He shook his head, finally looking back up at me, his eyes glacier-blue and tired. “Thank you for telling me. I obviously… owe you an apology, too. I acted like an idiot at the wedding, and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” I said. “I understand why you acted the way you did.”

He puffed out a harsh laugh. “I mean, I could have avoided the whole thing if I’d just kept my dick in my pants for one fucking night, but whatever—it’s water under the bridge. We made a mistake, and it’s in the past now.”

I hitched up one shoulder in a shrug, my scarf pressing up against my chin. “It wasn’t that big of a mistake, right? At least now that we’ve settled things.”

He shook his head. “Would have been better if we didn’t do it. I feel like shit today.”

“How come?”

He peered over at me like he wasn’t used to being asked what was wrong. “Well, for starters, I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“Jesus,” I said. “None? I’m sorry, Emmett.”

He was looking down at the ground again. I felt desperate, reaching for anything I could say to make him look less like he was about to break down in tears.

“Let… let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you a drink,” I said, fumbling. “Not tonight—you clearly need sleep—but some other time this week?”

He turned to the side, looking down the alley, pulling in a deep breath. His skin had broken out in goosebumps. “Ryan, it was fun, but it was a one-night thing, okay? I’m really not in the market for anything else.”

I nodded. “I know, I know,” I said. “I just… wish there was some way I could make this right.”

“I don’t know why you would bother,” he said. “I’m the one who should be making some grand apology. If you come back in the store, I can… give you a refund on that coffee, at least?”

“I don’t need the dollar twenty, Emmett,” I said. “You don’t need to do anything for me.”

He paused a moment before glancing at me again. “I should get back inside. Thanks for telling me, and I’m sorry. Really. I hope things go well for you in Rose Falls. You should do just fine here.”

I watched as he disappeared back around the corner. For a moment I stayed there in the little alleyway alone, watching the clouds of my breath dissipate into the air. For some reason I felt like I had failed somehow, even though I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do that morning. Emmett knew the truth now, the air was cleared, and everything could go back to normal, right?

Except seeing Emmett again that morning had confirmed something that I’d felt the night before at the wedding. Last night, I’d been tipsy, it had been dark, and I’d been starry-eyed after a beautiful wedding ceremony. It made sense that I would have been attracted to the hot, brooding single guy in the pews next to me, especially considering his bold declarations that he was a pro at hookups.

But seeing Emmett now, in the cold grey daylight, was something else entirely.

The frustrating thing was that I realized I wanted him more now, after getting a glimpse of his daily life, removed from the heightened reality of the wedding.

He wasn’t just a player that happened to be extremely good at making me come. There was a certain sadness in his eyes, even after he’d found out the truth about my being single.

Why did I have such an urge to protect him, to hold him close, to see him smile again?

* * *

A couple hours later, back at home, Stella came over with Anna in tow.

“How was she last night?” I asked, taking Anna from Stella’s arms and holding her against me. For a minute she cried after being roused from sleep, but soon she quieted, making little mumbling sounds as I bounced her in my arms.

“She was fairly good,” Stella said, “Only one major meltdown, and she went to bed at the normal time. She’s sleeping so well nowadays.”

“It’s a godsend, I know,” I said, “It’s like she reached six months old and decided sleep was the best part of this whole life thing.”

I stood at the front door while Stella crossed back over to her car, bringing out the stroller and the big bag of Anna’s toys. Stella looked amazing, as always—dark denim jeans, a nice blazer, and a colorful shirt underneath. Her short black hair was always in a trendy haircut, and she always wore sleek black heels.

“Jesus, Stel, you’re making me look bad,” I said as she took the stroller into my living room. “I can’t spend one morning with Anna without getting spit-up all over me, let alone taking a shower. You look like you’re ready to walk down the runway.”

“Trust me, I’ve changed twice this morning,” Stella said, brushing off my comment. “How was the wedding last night?”

I nodded, taking in a breath. “Well, it sure was interesting,” I said.

She arched an eyebrow, grinning as she leaned against the doorframe. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I had a… rendezvous.”

Her mouth fell open. “What? You? With who?!”

Anna dropped the rubber ring she was chewing on, screaming almost immediately, and I crouched down to pick it up, wipe it, and give it back to her.

“A guy I met at the wedding.”

“Wow, I’m impressed, Ryan,” she said. “You never do stuff like that.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “It was a lot of fun, but… then he thought I had a wife, thought I was cheating. I had to go explain our arrangement to him this morning.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “So you saw him again this morning.”

I puffed out a laugh. “I know it sounds crazy, but yes. I did.”

She smirked. “You must like him.”

“How could I like someone I just met?”

“Ryan, you instantly like everyone. You get along with people in no time flat. Remember that old lady on the train in the city? The one you met once?”

“Aw, I miss Marie,” I said, wistful.

“See?” she said. “You knew her for all of one subway right—couldn’t be longer than forty minutes—and you were totally charmed by her. I wouldn’t be surprised if this wedding hookup guy were your boyfriend by now.”

I snorted, bouncing Anna in my arms again. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”

“But do you think he’s at least potential dating material? If you get a date in this town before I do, I swear to God I’m going to punch someone.”

I laughed. “Why? I can’t get a date before the beautiful Stella Chan does? And no—there is approximately zero chance I will ever be doing anything with Emmett again.”

“Emmett,” she said, “Nice name. Why not?”

“Because he is a self-professed hater of commitment, he’s way cooler than me, and, oh, he told me this morning that what we did was a horrible mistake.”

“Maybe he just feels guilty for assuming you were married?” Stella said, hitching up a shoulder.

I shook my head. “I think someone told him. He didn’t assume. And I’m sure the last thing he wants is some boring dad type like me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Stella said. “Hot dads are a pretty hot commodity, these days.”

“Da,” Anna said, and I smiled down at her.

“I just fed her, so she should be ready to nap in maybe a half hour,” Stella said, reaching out to squeeze Anna. “I should get back to work, but have fun, okay? I’ll see you in a few days?”

I nodded.

“Unless, of course, you have any hot dates,” Stella said. “Remember our agreement.”

“Yes. If either of us gets a promising date, the other will watch Anna for that night. But trust me, it isn’t going to happen with this guy, Stel.”

She grinned at me. “Love you, Ryan.”

“Love you, too.” I waved, then brought Anna’s pudgy little arm up to wave at her mom. Today she was wearing a onesie with a bunch of little spaceships on it, and Stella had pinned her dark hair back with a little green bow.

“Your mama has impeccable fashion sense,” I said to Anna as I headed inside, shutting the front door behind me with my foot. “Clearly she has passed on the trait to you.”

I was still getting used to our new routine in Rose Falls. Back in New York City, I had worked full-time in the office, and often did overtime too. A nearly full-time babysitter had been necessary. But since coming to Rose Falls, I now worked from home—and I’d purposely greatly reduced my workload. I had hired a babysitter for the days I had with Anna, Monday through Thursday, but the sitter only typically came from eight o’clock in the morning until noon. The rest of the day, I was on my own, and so I always tried to fit as much work into the morning hours as possible.

Of course, sometimes I still reverted back to my workaholic tendencies—more often than not, I found myself opening up my work laptop at eight o’clock at night, after Anna had gone down to sleep, and I caught up on emails and projects until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.

I didn’t feel right if I wasn’t working. I didn’t feel like myself. But I knew that spending time with Anna was more important than any project, and the move to Rose Falls had been mostly for her sake, anyway. I needed to focus more on other aspects of life instead of just working ‘round the clock. The reduced hours were my first attempt at that.

I worked for a software company, anyway. I wasn’t a surgeon—nobody would die if I wasn’t available for a few hours. That’s what I tried to tell myself, at least, when I felt a compulsion to check my work email at all hours of the day.

I put Anna down on her play mat in the living room, and as she inspected her stuffed fox toy, I found my thoughts drifting toward what I’d done last night.

This was my real life—a responsible father of a six-month-old, staying at home, never partying or having casual sex. Last night, I’d felt like I was living someone else’s life. I couldn’t imagine Emmett seeing me here, like this, quiet at home.

It was ridiculous that I was even still thinking about him, really. I already knew our lives were so incompatible, even though I’d only met him briefly. The idea of a guy with a baby was probably terrifying to him—it was no wonder he still wanted nothing to do with me, even after knowing the truth.

He’d been right, though. I really was bad at the whole one-night-stand thing. It hadn’t even been a full day since our hookup, and I was already wondering if I’d ever get to talk with him again. I didn’t even know a damned thing about his life, other than that he worked at Brew For You. What would he be doing this afternoon, after he got off work? Would he hook up with someone else tonight? Had he already forgotten about me completely?

An obvious answer to all of the questions hung in my mind: it’s none of your business. And it really wasn’t.

I had my own life, and Emmett had his. We’d crossed paths, and it had been wickedly hot, but I had to leave it at that. I would be pleasant and cordial to him if I saw him around town, but that would be it.

I knew I needed to get rid of the tender feelings I had developed toward him. I had to nip it in the bud.

When Anna started crying again and I picked her up to see what was wrong, it just confirmed how stupid I was being. I needed to be looking for a guy who would want a family, who could see himself actually falling in love with me. Emmett would be a dead-end road, and he’d made it clear my lifestyle was something he would never want.

Emmett was the barista in the local coffee shop, and to me, that was all he would ever be. I’d buy coffee from him, maybe work on my laptop in the coffee shop, and nothing else. I knew that if I just kept telling myself that, eventually the memory of the connection we shared at the wedding would fall away, and I could forget how good he had felt in my arms.

I was much better off that way.