"Gran couldn't travel much, so I stayed on my own for six months." Those months had been tough. I'd tried to be happy for the baby, for the good life he'd get with some amazing parents, but it had pretty much sucked. I wanted to be done with it, while, at the same time, I couldn't face letting my baby go.

"Why did you go so far? I'm sure there were homes like that closer to Steep Hill and Gran."

For a guy that smart, he could be real slow. "Because I couldn't take the risk of you finding out about me."

Josh stood and his height made me shrink into my chair. He stepped away and I thought he was getting the hell out of the room. People were waiting for him outside. His life was waiting for him. But instead, he leaned against the door and crossed his arms.

"Assuming I believe what you just said, what happened to the baby?" I knew him enough to hear his need to know. He believed me. And he cared.

"I chose to have an open adoption." Well, the "choosing" actually came after weeks of sleepless nights with my hands clenched on my belly as if he would tell me what to do. "I met a few couples... but when I saw Jenna and Chris, I knew. I knew they were the best thing that could happen to our child. They were sweet and down-to-earth, and Chris was a quarterback in high school. I figured he'd teach his son how to play too; take him to practice and..."

"Stop." Josh hid his tight fists in the pockets of his trousers. Pain creased his face. "Stop. Please." His voice broke off.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for hurting him today? Six years ago? Just plain sorry.

"So why come to me now?" He'd recovered and there was now a bit of the guy I'd seen debating fifteen minutes ago. "Whatever you did, for whatever reasons, it won't change my mind. I want-I want-" he stammered, "I want a divorce."

That little reminder stung hard and made me jump to my feet. "Chris and Jenna died in a car crash last month. Lucas has been in foster care since then, and I can't let him go through the same shit I did."

Josh wasn't enough of a jerk not to show genuine shock. I had to push my point now.

"His grandfather sent me a letter to tell me the bad news. I got it on the day of Gran's funeral... just after talking to your lawyer." That last bit was low but his timing had been pretty lame. I wanted him to know.

"You want to adopt... Lucas." Disbelief made him frown as if I was delusional.

I shook my hands nervously. "This is my chance to make things right for him, to give him a second chance just like Gran gave me."

Josh stepped forward and bridged the gap between us. I tipped my head so that I could keep looking at him in the eyes. He lowered his voice when he asked, "So tell me Cass, how do I fit into your plan?"

Okay, here we are! "I talked to Social Services before coming all the way to England... before messing up with your new life. There's not much chance for me to be able to adopt, or even get temporary custody, if I'm on my own. I'm a single mom, a high-school drop-out, with a table-waiting income. And I'll have to sell the farm to pay for Gran's medical bills. So..." Come on, spit it out. "I need you."

The corner of Josh's mouth lifted but it wasn't a smile that said "Great idea!"

"Qualify 'I need you'."

I cleared my throat. This felt like standing on the stand, pleading my case. "For starters, we can't get divorced. We need to show we're a family. Plus soon you'll have a good job, earn good money. All that will definitely help Lucas."

"I see." No, I didn't think he did. "Six years ago, when I was still the penniless guy from Steep Hill, you didn't want to get stuck with my kid. But now that I might be making big money in the big city, now you're ready to play happy family."

"That's not true. I wish I could save Lucas on my own, without screwing up your life again," I grabbed his hand but he shook it away. "I'm no gold-digger. That's not who I am. You know that?" My question was more begging than asking, but I didn't care anymore. I couldn't let him think so little of me. Again.

His hand was already on the doorknob. He threw a glance at me over his shoulder. "I don't know who you are, Cassie. I think I've never really known."

I stiffened. "I've no choices left, Josh. That's why I came all the way to England to talk to you face to face, explain-"

"-and you've done it."

"I don't want your money. I just need to make sure Lucas is safe again. I can't force you to do anything and I won't say a word to Eleanor, I promise. But you had to know the truth."

Josh half-opened the door. "I don't want you to stay for dinner. I'll make up an excuse for the Carringtons. But please go away. I need time to figure this out."

He stepped outside. I wanted to make him understand that he didn't have much time for thinking. "The Clock was ticking"-type of warning. But I shut my mouth instead and let him escape.

For tonight.

eleven.

Steep Hill ~ October, six years earlier.

Josh.

"Hello, Sweetie, come in!" Mrs. O. gives me her familiar smile, almost normal, but not quite. She knows something is off between Cass and me, and she knows I don't yet know what.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late. I come straight from football practice. I need to talk to Cassie."

"Don't worry about it. I've made some apple pie. Would you like a slice?"

I'd usually say 'yes' because Mrs. O's apple pie buys you a one-way ticket straight to heaven. "Thanks, Ma'am. But I'll pass tonight."

The cinnamon smell is floating around me in the living room, but the taste of the pie will be ruined by being dumped. Because tonight, that's exactly what's gonna happen to me.

Mrs. O. shouts Cassie's name up the staircase. Her hands clench around the railing as if she needs it to keep standing. The old lady isn't getting any stronger. But the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs grabs my attention.

Cassie isn't happy to see me. She's never been good at hiding her thoughts, and tonight is no exception. Still, she looks worn out, dark circles below her eyes, pale skin... and she's lost weight. I can see that now she's only wearing a tank top and her shoulders are bare.

"I'll give the two of you some privacy." Mrs. O. starts walking up the stairs but Cassie stops her when she reaches her level.

"Don't worry, Gran. We're going out on the porch."

Her grandmother lifts an eyebrow but only says, "It's chilly, so wrap yourself up warm."

Cassie nods, then makes a gesture for me to follow her outside. She grabs a wide woolen shawl on the way out and throws it over her shoulders.

I close the door behind me and stare at her back. "You're not covered up enough" is all I manage to say. Pretty lame.

She doesn't look back.

I take a few steps towards her and lay my hand on her shoulder. She shudders but there's still total silence.

"Listen, Cass, I'm not stupid. Something's up. You've been avoiding me for a week now. Tell me what's wrong."

She lowers her head and she's biting her lower lip.

Okay, this has been going on now for too long. I've never lost my temper with her, not a single time since we became best friends at age six. "Don't be a coward, O'Malley! If you want to break up with me, then do it. But stop playing cat and mouse and behaving as if I don't exist." As if we've never made love.

Her face slowly turns towards me and I see the tear tracking its way down her cheek. I want to play tough, not let it get to me, but I can't. I've never been able to watch Cassie unhappy. It punches me straight in the gut. Every time.

"Cass..." My damned voice breaks. Instead of making a fool of myself, I slide a hand behind her neck and the other one around her waist-the way she likes me to-and pull her against me. She buries her face in my jacket and I hear a small sob. I kiss the top of her head.

We stay like that for a while. For someone who can boss his team around the field and shines on the debate team, I'm quite the loser when comes to saying things that really matter. My brain is whirling around trying to figure out what the hell has happened to make Cassie shut down like this.

"Is it Gran? I've seen how frail she looks."

Cassie straightens up, steps back and readjusts the shawl around her shoulders. Her cheeks are pink from the tears.

"Gran isn't getting any better." She's not looking at me, but her eyes are lost somewhere on my chest. She sniffles.

Her answer tells me the problem isn't Mrs. O. I can feel the lump settling back in my throat. If it's not her gran, then the problem is me. The two of us are Cassie's world. She's never opened up to anyone else, except Woodie. But Woodie is fine. It can't be about him.

"Have I done something wrong?"

She walked down the couple of steps that lead from the porch to the muddy yard where I've parked my truck.

And I stay standing in the same place like a fool. So in a few steps, I catch up with her and I'm about to tell her to spit it out because she's driving me nuts. But she spins around, and the lamps hanging over the porch make her skin look even paler.

I take one last step toward her but she stops me by laying her hand on my chest. I'm about to open my mouth.

"I'm pregnant."

My next breath gets caught in my throat. Silence fills the space between us and I swear I hear my heart pounding against my ribcage.

Cassie shuffles on her feet but her eyes are glued to my face. I want to answer something, anything, but my lips are numb.

"That's what I expected," she huffs and bypasses me.

And I stay rooted to the spot like a moron. I can only shout a weak "Wait!"

Her steps take her further away, so I turn around and run after her, grab her elbow and force her to turn and face me. But she shakes me away.

"Cass, let me recover. I'm freaking stunned."

"And I wasn't?"

I puff, like really puff, and it helps kick the shock out of my system. Or some of it.

"Are you sure?"

Cassie stomps her foot. "Yes, I'm sure. I swear if you ask me next if it's yours, I'll knock you down."

She's playing tough, but I know it's an act. She's shivering and tears shine at the corner of her eyes.

"I know it's mine, like you are." That sounds like possessive bullshit but that's the truth. "And I'm yours."

My words calm her down. Her shoulders slump in relief, I guess. I feel terrible that she'd kept it to herself all this time.

"What are we going to do, Champ?" she asks.

Good question.

I take hold of her hand and lead her to the bench at the side of the door. We sit down and I take my time before I speak.

"I can't pretend I'm not totally smacked by the news. It must have happened when..."

She nods. "I guess they were right after all. Withdrawal definitely isn't a method of contraception."

I let out a sad chuckle. "I guess not. I'm so sorry."

I intertwine my fingers with hers and stare at our joined hands for a while. Mrs. O is watching TV in the living room, but it's only a background noise. Cass and I are in our own bubble now.

"I've already Googled for places where I could... you know..." She looks away from me.

My throat tightens. "Where you could what?"

"Have an abortion." Her voice trails off.

Panic crashes over me. "Is that what you want?" She keeps looking away so I pull on her hand. "We have to think this through... together."

Her gaze swings back to me. "What is there to think about? We aren't even done with high school. It will ruin our lives."

I lower my head because her words are biting me. Cass has always had her feet planted firmly on the ground. I'm more of a dreamer. That's a fact. Still, I can't accept this.

"I know all that, but if we hurt our baby, it will ruin our lives. The guilt will always be between us... in us."

"Because a real baby won't be. You'll go to college, and instead of joining a frat, you'll spend your nights changing diapers. You'll work two jobs on top of studying to provide for a family." She shook her head. "And what about my dreams? I'm never going to make it in music if I have to look after a baby."

She covers her mouth and shakes her head again before burying it in her hands.

I can compromise with my own future, but music has always been what kept Cassie going. "I want you to be happy, Cass. More than anything in the world..."

Her hands fall to her thighs. "I can't believe I just said that. That's so selfish. It's only music after all."

"I understand why you feel that way." I grab her hand back because I need the contact. "But I also know you better than anyone else. You won't go after your dream if you feel guilty. You'll never recover from... you know." I can't say the 'A' word. "We'll never recover from it."

She doesn't answer, but her eyes agree, and she comes and nestles against me.

I sigh in relief. At least we've moved away from the cliff. I don't look at the world through rose-tinted glasses, though. Whatever happens from now on, our lives will never be the same again.

twelve.