SIX MONTHS LATER

Tyler's POV

I blink open my eyes, and look around an unfamiliar bedroom. The shades are drawn, but there is enough morning light for me to see the sleeping woman next to me. Her blond hair a tangled mess of curls, her lips curved slightly in a satisfied smile. What was her name? Great. Nice going, Tyler. Another one night stand, and you're going to be in the Guinness Book of World Records. What is wrong with me lately? I haven't been this bad since college, but somehow the high seems to wear off a lot quicker than I remember. As soon as I come, I just want to get the fuck away from them.

I quietly get up, and get dressed. Yes, sneaking out is a shitty thing to do, but hey, she knew what she was in for when she invited me up at 3am. Also, I couldn't give a fuck less about what she'll think of me. I am not planning on thinking about her ever again anyway.

When I get into my car, I check my phone and see a bunch of missed calls from Tiffany, and a text: *Baby coming right now! I need you*

Shit.

Alex had a last minute consulting gig come up in LA, and even though it's around the baby's due date, Tiffany insisted that he go. It's only a short plane flight away anyway, and he's supposed to be back in just a few hours. What are the chances that she goes into labour right freaking now?

I call Tiffany, but she doesn't answer. Damn it. I knew this would happen! Tiffany is probably in labour, all alone, and I'm not even reachable! With Alex away, I am the only family she has, and I'm too busy getting my dick wet instead of being there for her. I feel like such an irresponsible, selfish asshole.

I slam on the gas, and rush to the hospital.

When I arrive, I frantically search for the labour and delivery department in the directory, but I'm too frazzled to find it. Finally, I literally grab the passing nurse, who's understandably startled, and scream at her that my sister is in labour. "Eighth floor," she says, and points me in the direction of the elevators.

I rush to the elevators and see the doors are about to close. "Wait!" I yell.

I grab hold of the metal doors, pulling them apart before they shut completely, and rush inside.

When I look up, I feel the wind being totally knocked out of me as I come face to face with Carrie.

My heart was already beating unbearably fast, but now it feels as though I'm about to go into cardiac arrest.

"Tyler," she says softly, looking just as surprised as I am. "You're here--"

"Yes, I...uh...I'm here for Tiff. She's in labour," I explain, still not fully comprehending that I am looking at her. She looks a little different...her hair is longer. She's somehow even more beautiful than I remember...how is that even possible? I suppose it's because the last image of her in my memory is of her face smeared with tears...

"I know. I drove her," she explains, and I have to remind myself not to stare at her like a ravenous beast who's been deprived of all sustenance.

"You did? Man, I am so glad she could get a hold of someone..I know it should've been me...but I just... I was kind of...er.."

Carrie casts a curious glance at me. "Busy?" she finishes for me.

"Yeah," I say, and look away feeling even more guilty for some reason.

"It was Alex actually, who called me," she informs me. "He said Tiffany was unable to reach you, and he's already on the plane to get here, but she needed someone to drive her to the hospital. I am glad I was free... She almost called 911, but I got there just in time. She was pretty freaked out..."

"Thank you. I hope she'll forgive me," I say, and Carrie gives me an assuring smile.

"She's not thinking about that right now...I guarantee it," she says.

The elevator finally dings open, and I rush to check in with the delivery nurses.

"You're lucky her friend was able to get her here when she did," one of the nurses tells me. "Your sister's water already broke, and the baby was breached...if she'd waited longer it would've been a problem."

My heart sinks, and I feel the weight of the responsibility, and the shame for being so self absorbed at the worst possible time.

After being assured that Tiffany and the baby will be all right, I make my way to the waiting room.

Carrie is there, looking expectantly at me. "What did they say? Is Tiffany okay? How's the baby?" she asks, her face etched with worry.

"They're going to be okay... in large part because you are such a good friend," I tell her, feeling sincerely thankful. "If it weren't for you....man, I don't even want to think about it," I say, and sit down next to her, hanging my head.

"Hey...she knows you love her more than anything... Everything is going to be okay. The most important thing is that you're here now," she says, and gently places her hand on my shoulder.

That touch...so simple, and friendly in its intent...still has such tremendous power. I feel the gentle weight of her small hand, and it's taking all of my strength not to reach for her slender fingers and hold them in my grasp. As if sensing my inner struggle, Carrie pulls away her hand, but I still feel the lingering warmth of her touch through my cotton shirt.

I haven't seen her, or heard her voice in half a year...and sitting mere inches away from her now, I feel as though no time has passed at all. Like it would be the most natural thing for me to scoop her into my lap, and nuzzle her neck, smelling her sensual scent.

I thought when I would finally see her after all this time, I would still feel anger, and the sting of betrayal that's been my nightly torment for weeks after we broke up. But seeing her now, I don't feel anything more than regret... I regret ending it the way I did. It was so final. So cold. I said some nasty things to her, trying to make her feel as hurt as I was. Because in that moment I didn't see a future for us. I only saw the end. The fiery fucking inferno that was my rage blinded me to any other alternative, and I never looked back.

Yes, there were days that I nearly cracked and wanted to reach out to her...but my pride always stood in my way. Even my sister believed that I should give Carrie another shot, but of course, I only attributed her opinion to Alex's influence.

The truth is that even after months of trying my damnest to distract myself with any and every available vice known to man, I came to the realization that my only cure is not ignoring or dulling my pain...it's being able to forgive, and as a result heal my wound.

I study Carrie's profile for a moment. She's texting someone on her phone, and I'm trying to come up with the right thing to say. Of course I can't simply snap my fingers and forgive and forget everything that's happened between us. It's going to take some time and effort on both of our parts if we're ever even going to consider getting back to where we were. But looking at her now, only affirms what I've been trying to deny all this time. Yes, she made a mistake...but just like she said to me...I am her person. And she is mine. Our love is not perfect. But it's real. Things like temptation and weakness are part of living the human experience, but so is strength, and an ability to persevere. And I believe we can. I know we can.

"So," I begin, my voice almost cracking from the nerves. "You're doing well, then?" What a lame fucking thing to say.

She looks away from her phone, and her hazel eyes smile at me. "Not too bad..." she answers, but doesn't elaborate.

"Work going okay?" Another insipid question. So far I'm doing a stellar job of showing her what's she's been missing. Jesus fucking Christ. Way to bring your A-game, Tyler.

Carrie gives me a half-smile. "Actually yes, I'm now head of creative at Valent, and they've offered me an executive position in their New York office."

Holy fuck. "Oh, wow... and, are you going to take it?" I ask, mentally crossing my fingers that she turns it down. The next insane thought I have is how I wouldn't even have a problem moving to New York since I have my second restaurant there.

Oh, wow...I most definitely have some kind of a mental disorder. Probably should be studied.

"I'm thinking about it," she answers simply. "And how have you been? I hear Slate is doing well..."

"Yeah, well, now that Tiffany is going to be on maternity leave, I have to find a replacement chef to match her skills," I share my irrelevant problem.

"Well, if you fall on hard times, just remember, that I can brulee a creme like a champ," Carrie reminds me, with her playful smile.

God damn, I've missed this girl. And that memory of me teaching her how to use a torch in my kitchen is to this day one of the best dates I've ever had.

"I don't know....not sure I want to see my restaurant go up in flames like that," I tease her, and she laughs.

I've missed this sound so much. I've missed our easy banter. I've missed giving each other a hard time, and joking around. I've missed her. My best friend. My Carrie.

"Hey, I thought you said I was 'a natural'... or was that just a line?" Carrie asks, arching an eyebrow at me.

"I tell you what, if we really can't find anybody to fill Tiffany's spot, I'll give you a shot, kid," I tell her. "I've always wanted you to work under me in the kitchen," I add, not caring how lewd or inappropriate my innuendo may sound.

Carrie looks at me then, and I can't tell if she's shocked, or pleased at my crude joke. But I recognize her impish grin, and know that my words hit just the right spot.

"Would you give me a shot?" she asks, looking strangely at me. "There was a time when there was nothing I wanted more than another shot with you, Tyler," she says, with a melancholy kind of smile.

Hearing her say my name aloud nearly breaks my heart all over again.

"Well, maybe enough time has passed now for me to be ready to give you that shot..." I tell her honestly, surprising even myself with such directness.

Suddenly, Carrie's facial expression changes. She looks down and fidgets with a ring on her finger, and that's when I notice that it's not just a ring....it's a diamond ring. And it's not just on any finger....it's on the ring finger of her left hand.

What. The. Fuck.

"Tyler..." she begins, meeting my eyes, and I notice tears forming in hers. "Why didn't you reach out to me sooner?" she asks, trying to hide her oncoming tears. "Why did you ignore that letter I left at your work? I thought you wouldn't be so cold-hearted. I thought you'd moved on, and forgotten everything we had...I thought I had wrecked everything beyond repair--"

"What letter? Carrie, I never even--"

"It doesn't matter now," she says, wiping away a tear, and looking down. "It's too late anyway," she says, and digs out some Kleenex from her purse.

Just then I notice her phone vibrate, and I can't help but look at the screen.

A text from some guy named Chad, reads:

*Hey sexy, can't wait to see you tonight. Love ya!*

Carrie quickly turns off her phone and tosses it in her purse.

"I gotta go," she says, rising out of the chair.

I can't fucking believe this is happening right now. Is she engaged? Is she fucking married? And who the fuck is Chad?

It's literally been six months...how could all of this happen? Yes, I fucked my way up and down San Francisco....twice, but I never once even thought of getting serious with someone, let alone getting engaged. This is absurd. It's just...wrong!

"Carrie, wait a minute... I just can't... I can't let you walk away like this," I say desperately.

"You are the one who walked out on me, Tyler," she chides me, fresh tears forming in her eyes. "I begged you for another chance. I apologized, over and over again...I wept for weeks, and I laid my heart out on the line...I wrote it all out for you, and you just ignored me. You made me feel like there was nothing worth saving. What was I supposed to do?"

"You told me you would wait for me..." I remind her. "You said you would give me the time."

"And I did wait for you...but I needed a sign from you, a sign that you haven't given up on us. A sign that there was still a shred of hope left. That there was something worth waiting for. But I was met with radio silence. It was clear to me that you would never be able to move past my error. I hate myself for doing that to you, but you have to realize that I also did it to myself as well. When you left, you took a part of me with you... And no matter what I do, I feel like I can never get it back."

I come up close to her, and try to reach for her hand, but she pulls away.

"Please don't. If you hold my hand...I won't be able to... it's just too much, Tyler," she tells me, tears streaking her cheeks.

"Carrie, I... I don't want you to go," I say to her, and hold her gaze. It looks like she's about to respond....

Suddenly, Alex runs into the room, and rushes at us all wild eyed.

"Where is she?! How is she?!" he screams frantically.

"Don't worry, Tiffany's all right," I assure him, patting his shoulder.

"Take me to her...please!" he implores.

I lead Alex down the hall to where the delivery rooms are, and hand him over to one of the nurses who takes him to Tiffany's room.

When I return to the waiting room, Carrie is gone. 

Fuck.