were just a kid. How much could you have done?”
“I don’t know.” Ruth was surprised to realize a tear had streamed out of one eye. She brushed it away quickly. “At least I learned from her how to take care of myself. That’s definitely come in handy.”
Lincoln’s dark brows pulled together. She wasn’t sure what he would have said, but he didn’t get the chance.
Someone cleared his throat from the doorway to the room.
Both of them turned to look. Carter. Leaning against the doorframe. Frowning.
“Hey,” Ruth said with a smile, brushing away another tear. “Were you wondering where we were?”
“Yeah. What’s going on?” Carter came into the room.
“Nothing. We were just hanging out.” Lincoln stood up and gave his brother a couple of pounds on the back as he left the room. “Talking about you, of course.”
Carter’s frown intensified as he took the seat beside Ruth.
Ruth rolled her eyes. “We weren’t talking about you. He’s just being Lincoln.”
“Then what were you talking about?”
“Nothing.”
“You were crying.”
“I wasn’t really crying. I was just...” She had no idea what to say.
“So you can tell Lincoln what’s wrong with you, but you won’t tell me?” Carter’s voice was soft but rough. Hurt.
“No! It’s not like that. Please don’t be that way. I wasn’t telling him anything. I was just... He was asking about my mom.” Another tear slipped out of Ruth’s eye. It was starting to get annoying.
Carter’s tension relaxed immediately. “Okay. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to act like an ass.”
“You didn’t really think I’d be in here confiding all my deepest feelings to Lincoln, did you?”
“Well, no. I guess not. Honestly, I think I have a touch of PTSD when it comes to Lincoln. We’re in a really good place now, but I still half expect him to swoop in and take everything I...” Carter shook his head wryly. His eyes were focused the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I get it. I really do.” She sighed and slouched farther down in her chair. “I’m sorry about everything.”
“What are you sorry about? Are you going to do something to me that you need to be sorry for?” Carter had gotten tense again.
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m just...” She wasn’t good at keeping secrets, and she simply couldn’t hold the truth back anymore. “I’m just feeling bad. About everything.”
“About us you mean?” Carter leaned forward. Sounded urgent. “Because if you’re feeling crowded, if I’m being too pushy or something, just tell me. Please. I can take a step back. I promise I can.”
“No, no. It’s not that. It’s not you. You’re... perfect.” She shook her head. “It’s me. I feel...”
She almost, almost said it.
But some sliver of self-preservation insisted she temper the word with only part of the truth.
“I feel guilty,” she concluded.
Carter pulled back slightly. “About what?”
“About this whole thing. It’s all fake, but your mom is so happy. And Lincoln and Summer are so happy. They’re all treating me like I’m family. And I’ve been so lonely lately that I like the feeling. I like feeling as if I’m part of a family. So that makes it really hard. Knowing that it... it’s not real.”
“Oh.”
She couldn’t read the resonance of the one word. Her eyes flew up, but she couldn’t read his face either.
She babbled on, “I know it’s not real. I’m not that stupid. But it feels... it makes me feel awkward and guilty and overwhelmed.”
“I see.”
She tried again. “It’s not real, but sometimes it feels real. And that makes me feel... bad.”
“I get it.” Carter was barely moving now. He wasn’t meeting her eyes. He continued slowly, “We could... If you wanted, we could... make it real.”
She froze. Her eyes blurred over. It was so close—so incredibly close—to what she wanted to hear. But it wasn’t it. She knew it wasn’t it.
Because Carter was being who he’d always been. Kind and generous and wanting to take care of others. Trying to be good by taking the path laid out for him. And this was the path he thought was being laid out. Making their relationship real because he liked her and liked having sex with her and it would ease over all the awkwardness and conflict.
And maybe they could be happy enough that way. He’d be a good husband. A faithful one. She knew it for sure.
But she’d spent too long taking what was offered from men and convincing herself it was enough.
It wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t what she really wanted.
And so she said what might have