Nearly a week had passed since I had ended things with Megan. A long, miserable, confusing week. I couldn't believe how indecisive I’d been with my personal life. Business was one thing—I never wavered. I made a decision and stuck to it. But my personal life… what a mess I’d made of things. One thing I did know for sure was that I was growing increasingly gloomy and depressed at the thought of never seeing Megan again, never touching her, never loving her again. The near future seemed bleak without her in it. But a lifetime?

No doubt about it, when the time had come for me to decide, and to take a leap and told myself to follow my heart and not my obligations, I had caved. What was wrong with me? In the back of my mind though, I knew. I knew the reason for my hesitance. Quite plainly, I didn’t have the courage to face up to my dad. I was hesitant to lose my inheritance. Hesitant to lose what I felt was a part of me; my life and my lifestyle.

So along with everything else, I felt shame; ashamed of myself and disappointed. Not only had I let myself down, but I'd let Megan down too. After telling her how much she meant to me, after telling her that somehow, we would make it work, I had hurt her. Again.

I shook my head. I had accused Kristin of being indecisive. I was a hypocrite. What about me? Who was I really hurting? I grunted. I had let myself believe that in forcing myself to go through with this phony marriage to Kristin that I wouldn’t be like my father. Now, I realized that was nothing but an excuse. The truth—and the burden of that truth—was on me. It had nothing to do with my father. It was just a way of allowing myself to avoid my truest fear. Fear of striking out on my own. Fear of failure. That I wasn’t good enough. Not only to meet my own expectations, but Megan’s.

If I lost my inheritance, what would I have to offer Megan? I wanted to give her everything, but if I had gone against my father's wishes, I would end up with nothing. Nothing for myself, nothing for Megan—nothing. That reality didn't make me feel any better. Not one iota. I couldn't even bring myself to talk to Craig about it. I could just see him now, shaking his head in disappointment.

I sighed, staring wordlessly down at the papers covering my desk in my office. Lost. A lot of good all my money did me right now. I had all the material wealth that a person could ever want or desire, but I didn't have the one thing that I realized now was most important. Love. Contentment. Happiness.

I was a world-class jerk.

Megan had appeared in my life out of the blue. Instead of cherishing her, I had let her go. I had let the one person who had ever seemed to understand and care for me slip through my fingers.

I wished I could take it back, that phone call, but I couldn't. The damage had been done. I'd made a choice, and I doubted that she would ever forgive me. Not that I expected her to, nor would I ask. I wasn't even sure if I would ever forgive myself.

I sighed, my head pounding, everything around me seeming so insignificant. Despite my attempt to bury myself in work over the past few days, I couldn't stop thinking of Megan. I had deliberately avoided Kristin over the past few days, trying to gain hold of my emotional equilibrium. I knew that if I saw Kristin while I was so… so depressed, and I confronted her about physically attacking Megan the other day, I would lose my temper. Not that I'd ever strike her. Never. But her slapping Megan, that couldn't be undone either. What a horrible, fucked-up mess. And once again, I had no one but myself to blame. I groaned, stared at the pen clasped in my fingers, and, in a fit of pique, threw it across the room. It hit the window with a loud clunk and fell to the floor behind a low-slung wood filing cabinet. I stared out the window, my thoughts bemused, my mind spinning with regrets.

It was so quiet in my office that I heard the clock on the wall slowly ticking away the seconds. Each tick taunted me. I had always thought myself a confident, self-assured man, but at this moment I felt like a wimp. I would just have to live with the truth about myself for the rest of my life. That I was trying to take responsibility for sleeping with Kristin, for impregnating her, didn’t matter. The truth was, I had been acting like a push-over for months. With my dad, for years. My God, I was twenty-five-years-old! Why did I allow myself…

I sighed. There was nothing to do about any of it now, and as impossible as it seemed at the moment, I needed to forget about Megan. I had to focus on the future. Within two weeks I’d be getting married. Some months after that, I’d be a father. Resigning myself to making some kind of life with Kristin. I sighed, slid open my top desk drawer, retrieved another pen, and ordered myself to get back to work.

My phone broke the silence with a subdued ring. I answered it. "Yes?"

"A Craig Bresson here to see you, sir."

I frowned, more than a bit startled. Craig rarely came to my office. “Of course, let him in," I said. It had to be important. I tossed the pen down onto the blotter and looked up as my office door opened and Craig entered, closing the door softly behind him. Without a word, he approached my desk and sat down in one of the chairs before it.

"Craig, what’s—"

"What the hell is going on, Scott?"

Though he spoke softly, his voice was low, his tone angry. I stared at him, confused. "What are you—"

"I'm hearing gossip, and on top of that, Kristin called me this morning—"

"What? Why—"

Craig lifted a hand. "Is it true? You're having an affair with Kristin's wedding planner? The one you told me that I couldn't hit on?" Craig shook his head. "That delightful little thing on the boat? Was that your brilliant idea?"

I groaned and tried to explain, but Craig was having none of it.

"You're a jerk, you know that, Scott?" Again, he shook his head, brows lowered. "Is money is so important to you that you'd agree to marry Kristin… that you'd literally allow yourself to be blackmailed into marrying her…?" Another disappointed head shake. "Tell me what the hell is going on, and I mean all of it."

And so, with a sigh, I did. I repeated much of what he already knew, about my sleeping with Kristin, getting her pregnant, my father and his threats, but only now did I tell him the truth about Megan. How we had been such good friends, such a good couple, back in high school. I told him about her suddenly dropping out of that private school, her father's suicide, and then everything that had happened since Megan knocked on my office door, applying for the job we posted on Craigslist for a personal assistant for Kristin.

Craig stared at me for several wordless moments after I finished. The way he was looking at me… to be quite honest, I barely restrained myself from squirming. I thought I'd head him off at the pass. "Yes, I’m a jerk, Craig. And I’ll admit to something else too. I'm head over heels in love with Megan, but I’ve blown it. But—"

"But you're going to go ahead with this ridiculous marriage with Kristin?" Craig interrupted with a scowl. "Have you even questioned paternity?"

"She told me that she hadn't slept with anyone besides me—"

"And you believed her?" he asked, his voice rising in octave. "So you don't know the child's paternity, not for sure?"

I frowned. "I thought I already told you, Craig, that I was advised that it would be best to wait until after the child is born, for safety's sake—"

He slashed his hand at the air. "That doesn't mean you have to marry her! God, Scott! You're ruining your life! And besides, what good would it do to be a father for any child in a loveless marriage? Don’t you remember your life growing up? Can you imagine the tension? The animosity brewing just beneath the surface? What kind of a thing is that to do to a child?" Again, he shook his head. "We've been friends a long time, so I think I've earned the right to speak my mind. And right now, all I can say is that you’re one selfish son of a bitch."

I stared at my friend, knowing deep inside that everything he said about me was true. I felt exhausted, emotionally pummeled, and mentally drained. "What else can I do?" It sounded lame, even as I said it.

"If you don't know the answer to that question, Scott, then I guess I just don't know you at all."

With that, Craig rose from his chair and left the office, closing the door softly behind him. I stared at it for several minutes, my thoughts reeling. What could I do? What indeed.