As I shove laundry into the washing machine, I go through pockets. What’s this? Digging through a pocket in Carter’s pant, I pull out a piece of fabric. It’s a thong.

Incredulously, I stare at the tiny piece of cloth, unable to process what I’m seeing. When I finally do, I drop it on the floor like I’ve been burned.

It isn’t mine. We haven’t had sex in ages, so it can’t be. Well, maybe he took it out of my drawer… But he’s never even been into panties. I mean, he might put a thong in his pockets in the heat of the moment, but to seek it out? No. I take a closer look at the thong on the floor… No, it’s not mine. That much is clear.

Those must have been Carey’s pants, and I didn’t realize. They must be. Carter would never… No, not him. I grab the pants the thong came out of and march upstairs. Carey’s sitting on the couch playing some video game.

“Are these yours?” I ask, praying he’ll say yes.

He looks up for a second. “Are you serious? Those are old-man pants.”

I nod. Yes. They are… And I know exactly when Carter was wearing them, too. The day he got back from New York. I can still see that smudge on them. I made macaroni and cheese, and he dropped some on his thigh. We were laughing and joking about it, and for the first time in ages, things didn’t feel so tense between us. I don’t remember where Carey was, but he wasn’t home.

Carey pauses his game. “Why do you ask?”

I shake my head and go back downstairs. I don’t want to tell Carey what I’m thinking. It wouldn’t be fair. Carter is his dad…

How ironic this all is. Carter left Lauren because she cheated on him, and now he’s doing the same to me.

I hear footsteps on the stairs. Carey, obviously. I should have known. I don’t want to touch the thong, but I don’t want Carey to see it, either. I’ve just convinced myself to pick it up when Carey asks, “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” I try to hide it.

“Is that yours?”

I should just say yes. I should, but I can’t. I don’t want to burden Carey with this, but I just can’t help myself. I shake my head.

“Was it in Dad’s pocket?”

Even though I don’t want to, I reply with a hesitant nod.

And then he punches the wall. “Fucking asshole!”

“Carey!” I call out in shock. I’ve never seen him so aggressive. He’s always so laid-back.

“I’m so sorry, Mac,” he mumbles quietly.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know…”

And then we just stand there. Me with another woman’s thong in my hand, Carey with his knuckles bleeding.

“Just put that down,” he says after a while.

I nod, but my muscles refuse to move. I keep holding it. I don’t know why I can’t put it down.

Carey’s hands close around mine. His warmth makes my fingers move again. As the black lace sails onto the floor, Carey takes my hand and interlaces our fingers.

“It’s you and me, Mac.”

I know what this means, but I can’t do that to him. He can’t choose me over his dad. He can’t.

“You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can. You’re my family, Mac.”

That’s all he needs to say. I’m family to him, and he’s family to me.

* * *

Later, I’m sitting on our bed that no longer feels like ours. It has become a lonely place. How long have we not slept in this bed together? I don’t even know.

I realize one thing now. My feelings for Carter have faded. Maybe true love lasts even if you are not loved back. But my love for Carter hasn’t. I need more. More emotion, more attention, more affection. If I can’t get that, if I don’t feel like the other person loves me as much as I love him, my feelings wilt.

I wonder whether Hunter feels the same. Are his feelings for me wilting, too, because I’m not returning them?

Hunter.

Just because I’ve realized I don’t love Carter anymore, it doesn’t mean I’m in love with Hunter…

The little voice inside my head calls me a fool, and my belly is almost vibrating it’s fluttering so hard. But…that doesn’t mean I’m in love, right? Or does it? Am I in love with Hunter?

I don’t know…

Fool, fool, fool, yells every cell in my body.

Am I in love with him after all?

I’m so confused. Why do emotions have to be so confusing? Do I love Hunter?

A little buzzing sound makes itself heard, like a thousand voices have united, only to get a single word, a three-letter word, out into the world.

My heart, my body, goes warm when I finally allow myself to feel what I’ve been carrying around inside me for months. God, how could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I recognize sooner what others have been telling me for such a long time? Why did I let myself get so caught up in my relationship with Carter?

I don’t know. But now I see that I was wrong. Now that I know who my feelings are actually aimed at, I can no longer keep them locked up inside me.

I grab the phone and call Shane. “What’s up?” he answers.

“When can I talk to Hunter?”

“Uh, why?”

“Just tell me, Shane!” Normally I’m a patient person, but today… No, today, I’m not patient.

“Tell me what’s so urgent,” he counters, amusement in his voice.

“Oh my God! You’re the worst!”

“No info from you, no info from me.”

“Asshole.”

“Don’t make it so difficult, sweetheart. Just spit it out.”

This guy… If I didn’t owe so much to him, I’d kill him.

“I want to talk to Hunter,” I say simply.

“Yes, I got that. About what?”

Seriously? You’re going to make me say it? “About… About the possibility of changing our relationship.”

He laughs. “Have you finally realized you’re in love with him?”

I clamp my mouth shut, which makes him laugh even harder. “That’s not very nice,” I say eventually.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s taken you so long! I should have taken bets on when you’d come around.”

I really want to kill him. I hate the way he’s laughing at me. “When can I talk to Hunter?” I repeat, slowly and loudly.

“He finishes BUD/S the day after tomorrow. There’s a party with family invited. He was going to take me, but I bet he’d prefer if you took my place.”

The day after tomorrow…

Okay, maybe I can wait till then. Maybe!