Chapter 21 #2
He smiles and heads over.
“Did those guys ask for your autograph?” I ask as soon as he arrives.
Carter nods. “They did.”
“But you didn’t give it to them?”
He shrugs. “I told them tonight was about you.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” I quickly say. “If you want to—”
Carter lifts a hand and presses a finger to my lips, gently silencing my words. “I just want to be your husband tonight.” His hand shifts, grazing along my cheek until he’s gently holding the back of my neck, his eyes locked on mine. “Nothing else.”
I swallow against a sudden knot in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest.
I want this.
I want him.
But is that even fair? He’s here supporting me, showing up in a way I’ll never be able to do for him.
No matter my attempts to reason with myself—and I have, for my brother’s sake, more times than I can count—my body remembers the trauma even if my brain is willing to forget.
My mouth goes dry, my limbs lock up. I don’t know how to get past the trigger.
I want to believe it’s been long enough that maybe I would be okay.
That it might be different if I have Carter to motivate me.
Then again, maybe it wouldn’t matter.
Does love always have to look symmetrical?
Maybe, if I explained, if Carter knew what I was up against, he would understand.
Maybe I could support him enough in other ways.
As the night moves on, I meet so many people, hear so many names I’ll never remember.
Carter stays close, always available to fill an awkward silence or give my hand an encouraging squeeze.
He also makes it his personal mission to keep track of how many red dots appear next to paintings indicating they’ve sold.
Each time he gives me an update, he looks like a kid who just watched his favorite team win the Stanley Cup.
“Only four left,” he says when the night’s almost over. “That’s good, right?”
I take a deep breath. Only four left is very good.
“Miles and Anna just got here,” Carter says next. “I didn’t know they were coming.”
“I didn’t either,” I say. Anna’s due date is only three days away, so I told her she didn’t need to make the effort.
She said she might try anyway, but I didn’t truly expect them to come.
I know how much of a hassle it is to get a babysitter on a weeknight—especially since their go-to babysitter is me.
I turn to see them approaching, Anna looking stunning in a black wrap dress stretched tight over her belly, Miles in a suit beside her. “You came!” I say, reaching out to give them each a hug.
“Of course we did,” Anna says. “This is a big night for you. Besides, I thought I might lose my mind if I didn’t get out of the house. The girls drove me up the wall today.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been over more,” I say. “But with the show behind me, I totally will be. As often as you need me.”
“So you’re moving in?” Anna jokes, then her expression turns more serious. “Is the New York lady here yet?”
I fight to hide my disappointment. “Not yet. And this late, she probably won’t be. But you know who is here? Emerson. And he’ll die if you don’t say hello.”
I walk with Anna to where Emerson is chatting with Bradley and roll my eyes over their baby name conversation—he’s still campaigning, the big dummy. Carter is talking to Miles near the door, and I keep glancing that way, distracted by the obvious tension between them.
At a break in the conversation, I loop my arm through Anna’s. “Hey, why do our husbands look like they want to kill each other?”
Anna’s quiet for long enough that I’m guessing she and Miles have talked about it, and she’s trying to figure out how much to say.
But I can’t wait around for her to respond because Calista Reinhardt just walked through the door.
I suck in a gasp. “Oh my gosh,” I say. “She’s here.”
Anna follows my gaze. “Oh, she’s stunning,” Anna says. “Very New York.”
She does look stunning. Her gray hair is pixie-cut short and perfectly curly, just long enough to frame her face in a way that makes her cheekbones pop. Her dark brown skin is ageless and glowy, her outfit somehow looks both flowy and chic, and I really, really want to be her when I grow up.
Carter moves up behind me as Calista checks her coat. “Is that her?”
I nod. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“Breathe,” he says. He sweeps my hair off my shoulder and presses a quick kiss to my neck just above my collarbone. “You’ve got this.”
“We’re rooting for you!” Anna whispers, then I leave them and move to the door to welcome Calista.
“Sarah,” she says warmly. “I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s a ridiculous story that doesn’t bear repeating. But trust that I’m so happy to be here now.”
“It’s lovely to see you, Calista. Truly, it’s an honor you would take the time to be here at all.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Now, I won’t make you endure the awkwardness of staying with me while I peruse your work. So you just leave me to it, and I’ll be back in a bit.”
“That sounds perfect,” I say. “I’ll be here.”
“How’s the wine?” she asks before moving away.
“The white is terrible,” Carter says, stepping up beside us. “But the red is good.” He offers her a glass, and she takes it, giving him an appraising look.
“Calista, this is my husband,” I say. “Carter Williamson.”
“Charmed,” she says, and she really looks it. “Thank you for the wine.”
As she moves into the gallery, I breathe out a sigh, and Carter slips his arms around my waist from behind.
I let myself sink into him, not realizing that I need the support until I have it.
I press my arms over the top of his and look around the room.
The crowd is finally starting to dwindle, but there’s no way to call the night anything but a success.
I catch sight of Anna out of the corner of my eye. She’s watching us, clearly waiting to finish the conversation that was interrupted by Calista’s arrival.
I’m reluctant to let go of Carter, but I do want to know what Anna was going to say. “Hey, can you let me talk to Anna for a sec?” I say, giving his arm a quick squeeze.
“Of course,” he says, letting me go.
“Don’t go far,” I tell him.
Miles is on the opposite side of the gallery now, talking to the same two men who stopped Carter earlier. After the chilly conversation I watched them have right after Miles arrived, I’m not surprised when Carter steers clear of my brother, heading the opposite direction to talk to Emerson.
Anna comes up beside me, one hand pressed against the bottom of her belly.
“You gonna make it?” I ask, and she nods.
“I swear, just walking makes me tired these days.”
We’re quiet for a beat before I say, “So you were going to tell me why our husbands don’t seem to be friends anymore.”
She breathes out a sigh. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“Then what is it?” I ask. “He was so excited about Carter—so sure he was the perfect guy to do this.”
“It’s not really about Carter,” Anna says. “Not entirely.”
“Then tell me what it is about.”
She glances over at Miles like she wants to make sure he’s not heading this way anytime soon. “Miles told me about your conversation after the wedding,” she says.
At first, I’m not sure what part of the conversation she’s talking about—Miles asking me not to tell Carter about our dad or Miles trying to force a teaching career down my throat. I’m not excited to talk about either subject.
“He says you really don’t want to do the teaching thing.”
“I really don’t,” I quickly say without a shred of hesitation.
She holds my gaze, like she’s considering my words. I know her loyalty will almost always be to Miles first—but I appreciate that Anna always listens and tries to be a voice of reason for us both.
“He’s scared, Sarah. He feels such a responsibility for you. He always has.” She winces a little bit, like she’s hesitant to keep going.
“And?” I prompt. “Why do you look like there’s something you don’t want to say?”
“And he’s made up his mind that Carter is the one encouraging you to pursue the O-1 without worrying about teaching. He thinks he might have ulterior motives.”
I furrow my brow, struggling to truly wrap my head around what she’s suggesting. “What does that mean? What kind of ulterior motive?”
She gives me a pained look. “If you try for the visa you’re less likely to get, then you’ll have to stay married to him.”
Her words mostly just make me angry, but then a tiny flicker of doubt sparks inside my brain.
Carter wouldn’t. Would he?
As soon as I give even an ounce of oxygen to the thought, a wave of certainty washes over me and douses it right out.
He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t. Carter is a lot of things. But he is not manipulative. He’s the exact opposite. He’s completely guileless. And he would never do anything so underhanded.
“It’s sad Miles would believe something like that of his own teammate,” I say.
Anna nods. “I know. I told him the same thing. But Miles truly feels that if you have to go back to Canada, it will be his fault. He has nightmares about the possibility of your father finding you again.” She pauses, shifting her weight and leaning forward, like she’s trying to stretch her back.
“I don’t mean to make excuses for him,” she continues, “and I definitely don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.
But would it be so bad to just talk to a couple of schools?
Make Miles think you’re considering both options? ”
I understand why she’s asking. It has to be tough to be both Miles’s wife and my friend without feeling like she’s caught in the middle.
But there’s no way I can say yes. “I can’t do it, Anna.
It’s not the path I want. And if Miles would actually listen to me when I talk to him about my art, he’d understand why.
I feel really good about where I am. I’ve already checked so many of the O-1 boxes.
I’m not there yet—but I am getting closer.
And I’m only two weeks into this marriage—I’m so much farther ahead of my timeline than I thought I would be.
Especially if this thing at the Rooke works out. ”
She nods, but there’s still hesitation in her eyes. “What does Carter think? Does he have opinions about the visa situation at all?”
“He’s incredibly supportive,” I say. “He has been from the start. Even before we got married, he talked like it was basically a done deal. That I’d qualify for an O-1 in no time. He’s always said the wedding just bought me a little time.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment. “That has to feel good.”
I breathe out a little laugh, relieved that she finally seems to understand. “Yeah. It really does.”
“Okay,” she says. “I trust you. And I believe you.”
I reach out and take her hands. “Thank you. But I also need you and Miles to believe in me. It’s not the same thing.”
“Oh, honey, you know I believe in you.” She squeezes my hands. “And I’ll do my best to help your boneheaded brother see what I see.”
I lean forward and give her a hug. “Thank you.”
When I pull back, she doesn’t let go of my hands. She turns and looks at Carter. “Do you think you’re falling for him?”
Carter’s arms are folded, his focus wholly on my friend. “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe.”
It’s the closest I’ve come to admitting anything out loud, which feels big, but Anna doesn’t respond. She does, however, squeeze my hands with a sudden intensity that turns the tips of my fingers white.
“Anna, are you okay?” I slowly ask.
She nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Totally fine. The baby is just—really digging into my back.”
I study her closely, noticing a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.
She drops my hands, then grabs a cocktail napkin off a table behind us and dabs at her forehead. “Do you think he’s falling for you?” she asks. I get the sense she’s trying really hard to distract herself—and me—from whatever is happening inside her body.
“Maybe,” I say, still watching her closely. “But I can tell he wants to ask me about hockey. About not going to his games. Which I understand. But if I tell him, I have to tell him everything, and I told Miles I wouldn’t do that.”
She frowns. “He asked you not to?”
I nod. “But even if he didn’t, I’m not sure I’m ready for that level of sharing.”
“Ignore your brother’s request. He shouldn’t have asked that of you.
If Carter is the guy I think he is, it isn’t going to change anything,” Anna says.
“And being honest might make it easier for you to work through this. When they’re on the road next week, just come over.
We’ll try to watch a—” Her words cut off as she sucks in a breath, both hands moving to her stomach.
“Anna,” I say. “Honey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she says, almost impatiently. “Tell me something else about Carter. What’s it like living together?”
“It’s fine,” I say pointedly. “Now answer my question for real.”
She presses her lips together. “So help me, Sarah, I will not go into labor at your art show. I will not make tonight about me.”
I look over my shoulder and make eye contact with Carter. The look on my face must indicate the urgency of the situation because he comes right over.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing at all,” I say. “But can you very calmly go tell Miles that his wife is in labor?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “For real?”
Anna looks down at her feet and lets out a little gasp. “Um, pretty sure my water just broke.”
“That would be a yes,” Carter says before heading after Miles.
Anna reaches out to squeeze my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My timing is terrible.”
Tears spring into my eyes. “Your timing is perfect. I’m going to go explain to Calista why I’m leaving. Then let’s go have a baby.”