“That was the last flight they’re letting out of here,” the flight attendant says.

I bat my eyes to see if that will do anything.

“Are you sure there’s not going to be one more?”

“I’m afraid not. No flights are going in or out of Chicago. Visibility is dangerously low right now.” He looks down at the computer screen and shrugs. “If they even let this one land. Honestly, they might divert it to Cincinnati. This storm pattern is hitting New York very soon. They’re saying it could be twenty inches overnight. Haven’t had a storm like this since two-thousand eleven.

My shoulders slump, and I gaze out at the window. The air is thick with flakes swirling around. I can’t accuse this man of lying. I’m surprised the one flight even made it out of here.

A host of people wait behind me, also wanting an update on what’s going on. The attendant grabs the intercom and speaks.

“Attention everyone, all flights out of O’Hare are grounded until further notice. You’ll all receive a hotel voucher. Get in line at terminal twelve to your left.”

When I look left, I feel the air go out of me. The line is almost a football field long.

Stress balls in my chest.

My plan was to get back to New York, and reassess my situation when I’m out of Carter’s magnetic pull. I can’t think straight when he’s near me. It’s like he’s the moon and I’m the tide. He’s got this ability to pull me off of my normal course.

I want to rethink our relationship at home. He does seem like a changed person, and maybe we have a shot at...what exactly?

A long distance relationship?

Would he move to New York?

Would I move back?

And last—but certainly not least important—do I trust him?

I feel in my gut that he’s changed in a way, but the way he burned me this past summer, I have this fear of Carter just closing himself off all of a sudden and for no reason. I will not be burned again.

The Natasha picture is plausibly deniable. I’m the one who keeps saying we need to see other people. Maybe she is just more comfortable with sending sexy photos of herself to people. Although that visual still doesn’t sit right with me.

One night in Chicago with Carter won’t be the end of the world. I’ll sleep in his guest bedroom tonight. I just won’t allow myself to get caught up in his magnetism.

Skipping past the line of hundreds of people waiting for free hotel vouchers, I pull out my phone and dial Carter.

He startles me when he picks up after less than one ring.

“Hi,” I blurt out.

“You didn’t make it out of O’Hare,” he says, more statement than question.

“No, I didn’t.”

“This snow storm is wild. They’re saying it’s the biggest since the blizzard of twenty-eleven.”

“It’s definitely a wild one.”

“I’m glad though, in a way. I’m going to need your help.”

My skin tingles. “My help? With what?”

“Amy’s having her baby.”

My adrenaline shoots through the roof. “Right now?”

“Yes. And Chandler’s in San Francisco. Can you come to Illinois Masonic hospital? Take the blue line in, to get past the blizzard traffic on the highway, then take a lyft. I’ll text you the room information.”

I sigh, seeing my bag coming down the claim.

“Okay.”

“Oh and Laces.”

His voice is gravelly when he says my nickname, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. “Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re staying one more night.”

“Me too,” I blurt out.

“Good. See you soon.”

I feel a little ridiculous rolling through the doors of the hospital with my big roller suitcase.

After getting a visitor pass, I head to the elevator and up to the maternity wing.

Turning down a hallway, I spot Carter on the phone, and we make eye contact. As I walk up I hear his low voice.

“No, Amy’s parents aren’t here yet...flying into Peoria?...Yes, I’ll let them know…”

He looks up and our eyes lock onto each other’s. “Yes...she just got here, actually...I’ll tell her...talk soon.”

“Chandler says hello,” Carter says as soon as he hang up.

“I guess it’s too late to tell him I say hi.”

“That’s true. Hi, by the way.”

“Hi.”

Carter wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. I feel myself being pulled into his orbit again.

My heart warms up, in addition to my body.

“How is Amy doing?” I ask when we pull away.

“She’s fine,” I say. The doctors wanted a moment alone. “She tried for a natural birth for a little bit...I think they are giving her the drugs though.”

Just then we hear a yelp coming from the room. “Chandler, where the hell are you?”

Carter’s eyes widen in a look of half-fright that I’ve never quite seen on his face before.

“Oh boy,” he says. One of the doctors pokes her head out.

“Are you the uncle?”

I watch Carter’s eyes widen even further at that word.

He clears his throat, and his gaze drifts down the hall, unfocused. “Uncle,” he repeats in a daze.

It’s as though I can see him processing the information before my eyes that—not only is this his friend’s baby, but he’s also related by blood.

“Sir?” the doctor repeats, furrowing her brow.

I poke Carter’s arm.

“Yes. He’s the uncle.”

“Okay. Well, your sister...sister in law?...would like to talk to you.”

Carter nods, then glances my way. We follow the doctor inside the room. They’ve got the curtain up around Amy’s midsection.

“Carter. When is Chandler getting here?” she says, her voice full of something that is not quite anger. Agitation, maybe.

“Oh and hi, Lacy, good to see you. Did Chandler ever send you that wedding invi...Oh God.”

“It’s another contraction,” the nurse says in a soothing voice. “Breathe. Deep breaths, Amy.” Then, looking at Carter, the nurse says, “Mr., ah, Uncle. Hold her hand for God’s sake.”

Carter steps toward Amy and she holds onto his hand. “Chandler is on his way,” Carter says, and I see the relief come over Amy’s face. “Oh thank God. How long will he be, like an hour?”

“Well, the snow storm is going strong, so he can’t fly into Chicago. He’s got to fly into the closest downstate airport that’s free of the storm—Peoria, and then he’ll drive in from there.”

“Spare me the details. How long will he be?”

“Probably some time after midnight tonight,” Carter says.

“Oh God,” Amy yells again, and I’m not sure if she’s yelling because of Chandler being late, or because another contraction is coming.

She squeezes Carter’s hand, and a smile tugs at my lips.

As long as I’ve known him, he’s been Mr. Calm, cool and collected ninety nine percent of the time.

Right now he looks disheveled as hell.

I take out my phone.

“Really, Lacy?” Amy grimaces.

“Not getting a photo of you,” I wink. “I just want to capture Carter’s face right now.”

For the next hour, we hold Amy’s hand and stay at her side as her contractions become more frequent. At one point, Carter heads out of the room to go to the bathroom, and I’m left alone with Amy.

As soon as Carter leaves, she turns to me.

“I didn’t want to say this while he was here, but I’m so glad you two are back together. I was starting to worry about Carter before you came into the picture last summer.”

“Worry about him? In what way?”

She grimaces for a moment, and takes a deep breath.

“We shouldn’t be talking about this right now, anyway,” I add. “We can chat later.”

“No, it’s okay,” she says. “What I mean is, I’ve never met anyone quite as closed off as Carter. Well, aside from Chandler. But I knew he’d change...he just needed a reason.”

My stomach lurches. I feel bad talking to Amy about this while she’s in labor, but at the same time, I’m very curious.

“You think Carter has changed?” I ask. “Sometimes I’m not so sure.”

“Of course he has,” she answers. “Since you two started dating, he’s been on the straight and narrow, other than that broken hand. He started checking up on me over the past year, and I can tell he’s being genuine...oh boy another contraction.”

Just then, Carter comes in the room again.

“Just talked to Chandler. He’s on a private jet to Peoria. It’s the closest to Chicago he could land with the snow.”

“Oh boy, I don’t know if I can hold out until he gets here,” Amy yells, obviously in some distress.

“Are you trying to hold out?” the nurse asks her.

“I want Chandler to be here when he comes out.”

“You don’t really have a choice,” the nurse adds quite matter-of-factly.

“Christ,” Carter mutters, and then he whips out his phone, dials, and puts it on speaker.

“Hello?” comes Chandler’s distinct, raspy voice on the other end of the phone.

“Hey man,” Carter says. “Can you hear me?”

“You’re coming through loud and clear. I didn’t even know my phone would work on the plane.”

“Chandler,” Amy yells.

“Someone needs to talk to you,” Carter says, and points the Face Time at Amy.

“Hey baby. I’m so sorry I’m not there right now. How is everything going?” Chandler says innocently.

“How’s everything going?” Amy clears her throat. “How’s everything going? Well, for starters, eight months ago you knocked me up while I was still on birth control. Thanks for that. Now I’m having your fucking baby, and you’re not here!”

I catch a glimpse of Chandler’s shocked expression on the Face Time. Carter does too, and we lock eyes in a wide-eyes smile.

“I know. I’m so sorry, I’m so happy we’re having this baby. I love you, and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“I know,” Amy whimpers, her eyes welling up with tears.

“But seriously, how is everything going? Is Carter taking care of you?”

Amy glances at Carter. “He’s doing a good job. He’s a little out of his element, though.”

Carter shrugs. “That’s accurate.”

Seeing their digital reaffirmation of affection makes my heart hurt that Chandler can’t be here. But also warms me so much at how lucky this child is to grow up in a house with so much love.

Carter holds the phone for another few minutes while Amy and Chandler chat.

About five hours and a lot of breathing and pushing later, Chandler barges in the door, and sees Amy sitting with a baby in her arms.

Amy’s face lights up softly when she sees him.

“Hey,” she says.

He closes the distance between them in two big strides, kisses and hugs her and the baby.

“So sorry I missed everything,” he says.

“You didn’t miss everything. Meet your son.”

Chandler picks the baby up in his hands, glossy-eyed.

“Congratulations, man. The baby looks beautiful.”

“Congrats to you, too,” Chandler says.

“Why congrats to me?” Carter asks.

“You’re an uncle, brother.”

Carter smiles. “That’s right.”

“So what are you two going to name him?” I ask.

“Braden. Braden Spiros,” Amy says.

“Welcome to the world, Braden.”