Chapter 9 - THE SECOND FIRST DATE
Their second first date happened three months later.
Lily named it that.
Hannah objected.
Nobody listened.
It began when Carter sent a text.
Dinner Saturday? An actual date this time. You can say no.
Hannah stared at it for eleven minutes.
Then:
Yes. But nowhere we went when we were married.
Carter chose a small Italian restaurant in Brooklyn.
No chandeliers.
No private room.
No velvet jewelry box.
Hannah arrived six minutes late.
Carter stood.
She laughed.
“What?”
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
“You've performed open-heart surgery.”
“Hannah, please retire that comparison.”
She sat.
He had changed.
Not physically, though silver had appeared at his temples.
It was something quieter.
The old Carter filled silence because he needed control.
This Carter allowed it.
He asked questions and waited for answers.
When Hannah talked about Hudson Women's expansion, he didn't glance at his phone.
He knew the names of her colleagues.
He remembered details.
Not because she'd put them in a binder.
Because he'd listened.
Halfway through dinner, Hannah said:
“I need you to understand something.”
Carter put down his fork.
“I will never become your old wife again.”
“I don't want you to.”
“I won't organize your parents' lives.”
“Dad organizes mine now.”
Hannah smiled.
“I won't manage your social calendar.”
“Lily says I shouldn't have one.”
“Smart girl.”
“I won't remind you to buy birthday gifts.”
“Already automated.”
“That's cheating.”
“Technology is growth.”
She laughed.
Then became serious.
“And if I ever feel myself disappearing again, I leave.”
Carter nodded.
“No argument.”
“That's all?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don't know.”
He considered it.
“Then I'll say this. If you ever start disappearing inside a relationship with me again, I hope you leave before you lose yourself.”
Hannah stared at him.
“That isn't romantic.”
“No.”
“It might be the most romantic thing you've ever said.”
“That's depressing.”
She smiled.
After dinner they walked along the Brooklyn Heights Promenade.
Manhattan glittered across the water.
Carter kept his hands in his pockets.
Hannah noticed.
“You're being weird.”
“I promised myself I wouldn't touch you unless you touched me first.”
“Why?”
“Because I've spent most of my life assuming access to you.”
That silenced her.
They walked another twenty feet.
Then Hannah slipped her hand into his.
Carter stopped.
“Keep walking.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Don't ruin it.”
They kept walking.
A month later, Carter met her for breakfast.
Then another dinner.
Then a museum.
Then Rose's daycare fundraiser, where everyone assumed they were already together.
They weren't.
Not officially.
Hannah refused to rush.
Carter never pushed.
Then came the setback.
It happened at North River's annual charity gala.
Hannah attended representing Hudson Women's.
Carter attended as a surgeon.
Brooke was nowhere near New York.
But gossip survived longer than relationships.
Hannah entered the ballroom and heard two women whispering.
“That's Carter Sutton's ex-wife.”
“The one who left him over the communications director?”
“I heard she used the scandal to get her executive job.”
Hannah stopped.
Before she could turn, Carter appeared.
He had heard.
The women went pale.
Old Carter would have protected appearances.
New Carter looked directly at them.
“Hannah built her career despite what I did to her, not because of it.”
“Dr. Sutton, we didn't mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant.”
Hannah touched his arm.
“Carter.”
He stopped.
The women hurried away.
“You didn't need to rescue me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
“I wasn't rescuing you.”
He looked at her.
“I was correcting a lie about you that existed because of me.”
Hannah swallowed.
Later that night, they stood on a terrace overlooking the city.
“I'm scared,” she admitted.
Carter didn't pretend not to understand.
“So am I.”
“What if we become the same people?”
“Then we stop.”
“What if you hurt me again?”
“I could.”
The answer startled her.
Carter continued.
“I could promise I never will, but that's what people say when they want certainty they can't give.”
He looked at her.
“I can promise that I know love doesn't exempt me from consequences anymore.”
Hannah's eyes burned.
“And what if I can't completely forgive you?”
“You don't owe me complete forgiveness.”
She stared at him.
“You've gotten annoyingly emotionally healthy.”
“Four hundred dollars an hour.”
She laughed.
Then Carter looked at her mouth.
He didn't move.
Didn't assume.
Didn't ask.
He simply waited.
So Hannah closed the distance.
Their first kiss after the divorce was nothing like their first kiss twenty years earlier.
It wasn't desperate.
It wasn't young.
It carried too much history for innocence.
But it was honest.
When they separated, Carter rested his forehead lightly against hers.
“Does this mean—”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Worth trying.”
Hannah kissed him again.
Across the ballroom window, Lily was watching.
Beside her, Rebecca held Rose.
Lily extended her hand toward her grandmother.
“Pay up.”
Rebecca frowned.
“We said Christmas.”
“I said before Thanksgiving.”
Douglas walked over.
“What are we betting on?”
“Your son.”
Douglas shook his head.
“Terrible investment.”
They laughed.
Outside, Hannah had no idea her family was gambling on her love life.
She only knew Carter's hand was in hers.
This time, she wasn't holding it because he needed someone to guide him.
She held it because she wanted to.
May you like
There was a difference.
And Hannah intended never to forget it.
