Chapter Seven
It was too cold to be sitting on a bench in Crawford Park watching the icy Marietta River trickle idly in the sunlight.
Sierra lifted her face to the sun though. No matter the temperature, or more importantly, the windchill, she needed to get out more. Feel the sun on her face. Breathe the fresh air. She’d been shutting herself inside these past few months, letting everything fall in on itself.
She needed to throw open the windows and breathe fresh, new air into her brand-new start.
She opened her eyes at the sound of a car door and looked over to see Carter walking toward her.
She had to deal with the past before she could fully step into her fresh start. So, she’d agreed to meet him today. On her own terms. Where and when she wanted.
“A bit cold, isn’t it? We could sit in the car or—”
“Let’s walk,” Sierra interrupted. She wanted to move. She was finding the more she got up and did things, the less puny and nauseous she felt.
“So, I guess you’re feeling…well,” he finished, kind of lamely.
She side-eyed him as they walked along a little trail. He hadn’t reacted to the baby news like she’d expected, that was for sure. “I have to say I’m surprised you haven’t tried to doctor your way into this.”
“It’s all still surreal. Hard to believe. I probably would have though, if things were…normal. But I also know there’s probably a few more weeks before they’ll do a checkup, so I have time.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. She should have known he had a plan, though she’d give him a tiny bit of credit for his honesty.
“I should be there. Not as a doctor, but as your husband and as the baby’s father. I should be at all your appointments.”
“But you’re not going to be my husband, Carter. I need you to accept that. Time won’t change my mind. Some magic fact you come up with won’t change my mind. I have to make a new start.”
“Why do you have to do that?”
“Why?” she spluttered. She couldn’t believe the question. Did why matter when she’d made her decision? “Because. That’s why.”
“Shouldn’t you be able to tell me why?” he asked, and there was an odd edge to his tone. One she didn’t recognize.
“I can. Maybe I don’t want to.”
He shook his head. “That isn’t right, and it isn’t fair. Maybe you think I should know or be able to understand through magic or whatever, but that isn’t fair.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and watched his feet as they walked. He opened his mouth, but didn’t speak right away, almost as if he was struggling with something. “I’m human, Sierra.”
She wanted to be angry at that simple statement of fact. As if she expected him to be perfect and godlike. She wasn’t his father. She had never, ever had those kinds of expectations of him. In fact, she’d always wished he’d be a little less perfect so she didn’t feel so dumb in comparison.
But in the sunshine of a winter afternoon, she realized he expected himself to be that perfect, inhuman robot. And admitting he was only human was something of a step.
Some little bubble of hope took hold of her fast and hard, but she had to pop it. Reality was that no matter what steps he took or what he realized, there was no positive future for them together. They’d had their shot. It hadn’t worked. She had to be firm in that.
She couldn’t wake up suspecting he didn’t love her again. She couldn’t live in a constant cycle of knowing she wasn’t enough while he turned away from her, and that felt inevitable. If it happened so easily, so early in their marriage, how could it not happen again?
“Fine. If you must know, I want a new start because I was miserable and making myself more so. A marriage isn’t two people barely talking or hardly seeing each other. And it’s…” She struggled to find the right word. One that fit but didn’t pain her to admit. “It’s not fun to shrink to take up less and less space. I won’t do it anymore.”
“What if I don’t want you to do it anymore either? What if I wanted you to take up more space?”
You wouldn’t let me. Part of her wanted to say it. To lay it all out there. The way he’d shut her out and down, but she couldn’t get her lips to work that way. The thought of baring her soul filled her with such body-numbing fear she could barely suck in a breath.
She’d spent most of her teenage years embracing her weaknesses so it didn’t hurt when her father chided her for them. But for some reason when it came to Carter, she’d been afraid to let him see any of them. At least the ones that would kill her to have him criticize.
She could handle someone calling her flighty or overdramatic. She knew she was those things, and she didn’t see much point in being different. But she didn’t want Carter to see how soft her heart was, how much it hurt when he acted as though she didn’t even exist. How it made her feel as worthless as she always secretly suspected she was.
She wanted to be stronger than all that. Tougher. Tough and hard was the only way to get through life. Dad had tried to impart that on all of them.
Now she’d spent the past few days under her father’s roof and seen a softer side to the gruff, hardworking man she’d cast as the villain in her teenage rebellions. But something in her adult life had made her realize even if he’d gone about it the wrong way, he’d been trying to teach them how to survive a tough world.
She should have listened better. Maybe her heart wouldn’t be so bruised and bloody.
“The five minutes doesn’t count if it’s silent,” Carter said gently.
“The talking is your idea.”
“I guess I could tell you about my dinner companions last night.”
She felt her mouth curve in spite of herself. It was so cute when he thought he was sneaky or had some piece of information she didn’t. He was always wrong because usually he was so wrapped up in something or other he hadn’t noticed it the first time around.
“Absent-minded professor,” she murmured.
“You haven’t called me that in… Well, I think since before we got married.”
Oof. She didn’t want to dive into that well of hurt. The way things had changed once they’d gotten married. Once she’d been McArthurized. So, she wouldn’t. “You had dinner with Cole and Lina.”
“How’d you know that?” he asked, sounding slightly incredulous, which helped take her mind off all that hurt.
“Lina and I hung out a bit yesterday on her break. She said she wasn’t going to go though, so that was just a guess on my part.”
“I was glad she did.”
“Kaitlin and I have been getting along,” Sierra said, and then immediately regretted it. They weren’t here to talk like they were a happy married couple on a walk.
“Really? How is Kaitlin? I haven’t seen her much since… Well.”
“Since she got knocked up and married Beckett Larson, thus ending her decades-long crush on you?”
“She did not have a crush on me.”
“Oh, please. She was desperately in love with you.”
He scoffed, and it was a little odd, Sierra realized in retrospect, that she’d never really talked with Carter about how stupid Kaitlin used to be over him.
“That isn’t true, is it?” he asked, as if figuring out she was serious.
“God’s honest truth.”
He stopped mid stride and turned to her, eyes wide, mouth open. “That’s why you came over to me at that party when we met.”
Again she had to fight the urge to smile. “Why?”
“To piss off your sister.”
“She wasn’t there.”
“No, but… You never would have given me the time of day if you weren’t trying to do something. Stick it to your sister is as good an answer as any.” He sounded…awed, taken aback.
She wanted to back away from all this, run away from where it all began. She didn’t want to rehash, or worse, feel it all over again. But she’d decided to embrace this whole five minutes thing because she wanted to find closure. She wanted to walk away with no regrets, so her fresh start really was fresh.
“Yes, I came over to you at the party because I knew Kaitlin was all hung up on you and would get all pissy if I said I’d flirted with you, especially on New Year’s Eve.” She wasn’t exactly proud of herself, but she’d been bored and restless and it had been something to do.
“But you married me. I assume you didn’t do that to piss Kaitlin off.”
If only.
*
Sierra started walking again and Carter had no choice but to follow. “I know you didn’t,” he said, because even though he did know that, her silence was…perplexing.
“No,” she finally admitted.
The wind was icy and he wanted to bundle her up and put her somewhere warm, but she would bristle at that and only stay out in the cold longer.
See? He wasn’t completely clueless. He understood some things about her.
“Funny thing is I thought I’d go over, flirt with the golden-boy doctor, get him a little riled up then disappear. Have a big laugh with my friends, make Kaitlin seethe with jealousy.”
“You didn’t though.”
“No. The golden boy who I thought would be interested in slumming it for approximately two seconds, ten if I showed enough cleavage…” She sighed heavily and unexpectedly whirled around, immediately striding back toward where their cars were parked.
He had quite a few inches on her, so it was easy to catch up.
“You were nice,” she said, sounding very close to disgusted, which of course made no sense to him. Wasn’t nice good?
“You weren’t disdainful of the bad girl smiling up at you. You didn’t treat me like you knew my nickname in high school was Sierra Do-her. You just talked to me like I was some adult, whole person separate from my reputation or my family or how far out of your league I was.”
“Sierra…Do-her?”
“You’re missing the point.”
“No. I got the point, but I’m hung up on the nickname. Did people really call you that?”
Sierra shrugged jerkily. “Whatever. I wasn’t exactly picky or discreet. That was kind of the point.”
“We didn’t run in the same circles.” Maybe it was strange to comment on, but he’d had a certain tunnel vision after he’d met her at that party. He hadn’t thought about much beyond how she made him feel. He’d thought about the person in front of him. If he’d known anything about Sierra before that moment it had been that she and the Shullers existed. His mother had made sure to tell him she was ‘wild’ a few times, but Carter hadn’t paid much attention to that. Her past was a mystery, because all that had mattered to him was her.
The thought of any asshole daring to touch her then call her that about made him rage right there, but he supposed that was beside the point. Still, it clawed at him like this new anger he always seemed to be carrying around.
“I mean, even without our age difference, yes, different circles. I didn’t think it mattered, but maybe it does.”
“It doesn’t,” he said automatically, firmly. He’d never believed that was what led them here.
“Carter.” She heaved out a sigh that puffed into a cloud against the cold air around them. She came to a stop and wrapped her arms around herself. “I know you want that to be true, but I’ve had to come to the hard conclusion that the things we want to be true and the things that are true don’t match up. We can’t make the world do what we want.”
He kept his mouth shut if only because he knew whatever argument he mounted would be met with her immediately dismissing it as his ego.
But he’d made everything in his life work except this, why shouldn’t he have a little ego? Why shouldn’t he believe this—the most important decision in his life—was right and good and this horrible blip was fixable?
For some reason, he remembered what Cole had said last night. Love was letting people see the cracks.
He inwardly shuddered at the idea. Maybe that worked for Cole and Jess, but Carter couldn’t take it on board. But he could…modify it, for his own purposes. Maybe instead of showing her the cracks, the weakness, he should show her the strength. Why he was here, fighting for their marriage even though she was trying to walk away.
“You didn’t ask why I talked to you when you came up to me at the party. Why I was nice.”
“I don’t need to ask. That’s who you are, but sometimes you let them take it away, dim that goodness inside of you. You don’t believe in it enough, and I can’t believe in it for the both of us.”
That felt like an arrow piercing too close to the truth. That weakness. He had to shield it.
“I talked to you, this woman too young and wild for the likes of me, the man who’d only ever associated with women my family would approve of, because you looked at me, flashed that smile I knew meant you wanted nothing but trouble, and my foundation shook. My rock-solid foundation that had never once, in my whole life, ever even trembled. It shook for you and I didn’t want it to stop.”
He expected her to say that didn’t matter too, but she stood there instead, looking a little shaken herself.
So, he pressed his advantage and stepped closer with every word. “You damn well sparkled with life, and it was like nothing in my life. Nothing I’d ever seen. Not that close. Not that right.” Her big brown eyes stared up at him and she swallowed, visibly. Audibly.
He reached out to touch her face, much like he had yesterday, because God it had been so long since he’d touched her right. The way she should be touched. Soft and reverent and his.
She didn’t pull away like she had in the car. She inhaled shakily, and opened her mouth to say something, but he swept his thumb across her jawline like he knew she liked. No words escaped her throat, just a little squeaking sound that had something like power rushing through him, strong and bold.
Her eyes fluttered closed like they always did when he let his fingers trace slowly down the side of her neck, the most featherlight of touches.
He should have tried this before. Should have found this as solace in all that horrible darkness before. Her. Her softness. The way she responded to him. Maybe they wouldn’t be here if he’d only—
But he hadn’t. He only had now, and he’d use whatever he could to make this work.
He slid his hand around her neck, cupping the soft skin and silky strands of hair and pulling her closer.
“Carter…” But she said it on a whisper, and though he drew her nearer without saying a word, she didn’t protest.
So he touched his mouth to hers, light at first. Simple. Like their very first kiss under the stars after talking half the night away at that stupid party. And just like that night, she melted against him and he took more than he should have, drugged by the softness of her lips, the velvet of her tongue when it touched his. That bright pop of something bigger than chemistry or liking each other.
Like they were made from the stars that first night, shaped to belong together, to be each other’s. That kiss and this one sealed that fate. Forever. He’d known then. He knew now. They belonged together.
She had to know it too. She had to.
But as he pulled away, his blood pumping, his heart racing, and everything inside of him whispering Sierra, it didn’t matter that her eyes were glittering, or her cheeks were flushed from more than the cold. He knew in a horrible instant that the kiss wasn’t a real acquiescence from her.
She stepped back. “I don’t deny this—attraction. We’ve always had that,” she said. Even though her voice was shaky and she was stepping away she seemed so…certain. Strong. “I don’t even deny that we care about each other.”
“What else matters?” he demanded, frustration leaking through.
“I’m not happy, Carter. You’re not happy. We don’t make each other happy.”
“Nothing would have made me happy in the past few months. You don’t know what it’s like to find out your entire world view, self-view, life view is built on a lie.”
“No, I don’t. But why wasn’t I a part of any of those views?”
It took him a good few seconds to actually feel that blow. To exhale the breath he’d taken as she’d said the words. It was too…true. Lina had said he only cared about himself and she was right. She was truly right. He’d absorbed his father’s news and kept it all to himself, only thought of how it affected him.
He’d kept Sierra out of it, but she was wrong that it meant they should be over. It was one mistake. One wrong way of looking at things. It had been about cushioning the hurt, saving her from the pain. It hadn’t been about not loving her.
So, he had made a mistake, yes, but he could fix it. Somehow.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said, her voice scratchy as she turned and began walking toward her car. “Your five minutes are up.”
“I love you, Sierra.” Because it was all he had. The simplest truth he knew. He needed it to be enough for her, even knowing it wouldn’t be.
“I love you too,” she replied, pausing at her car door, but Carter knew she wasn’t giving him what he wanted.
“But I don’t want you,” she continued. She got in her car, slammed the door shut, and Carter could only stand there. He didn’t just feel sliced open, he felt as though all his organs were spilling out of him and he was nothing but an empty shell.
But her car didn’t start or move. He had a fleeting moment of hoping she planned to get back out, take the words back, but then he realized she was moving around, punching the steering wheel.
Her car wouldn’t start.
Carter glanced up at the sky, promised himself he’d believe in divine intervention if this worked, and he grinned.