Riverrat69: I’m on my phone. Are you okay?

I shake my head. No. I’m not okay. The man I trusted most in this world—the man I’ve defended a thousand times over to his wife—wanted to have an affair with me.

Hell, one might argue we were already having an affair. We crossed lines. I haven’t allowed myself to think about it, but I do now. I had an affair with a married man. Maybe we didn’t touch, but we talked about it. We described it. I’m as guilty as the woman Sam’s father had an affair with.

Tink24: I know you’re married.

I stare at the screen, waiting for his response. I don’t know what I want him to say. That he isn’t married? Do I want to find out he’s someone else, someone other than Connor? A stranger using the Bradshaw cabin to lure in women and seduce them? How is that better?

I’m making myself crazy with analyzing my own motivations when his reply finally comes.

Riverrat69: You figured out who I am.

Tink24: Yes.

Riverrat69: Because of the cabin.

Tink24: Yes.

Riverrat69: I should have never invited you there. That was careless. Reckless. I apologize.

Tink24: You’re saying you didn’t plan to cheat on your wife?

Riverrat69: Can we talk about this in person?

Tink24: No. You’re married.

Riverrat69: You know how people talk about their significant other as their partner? Well, that’s how I feel. I’m her partner. On the bad days, I feel like her assistant. The person there to make her life easier. I didn’t particularly want a partner. I wanted a lover and a companion. So, yes, I’m married. But I don’t have a lover. And you’ve been the closest thing I’ve had to a companion in a long time.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m the other woman.

Tink24: You have made me into something I never wanted to be. I can’t forgive you for that.

Riverrat69: Lizzy . . .

My hand flies to my mouth and my whole body starts shaking. He knows it’s me. He’s been working next to me, talking to me, telling me about his baby and what a great mom Della is, and he’s known all this time that I was Tink24.

I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing, forcing my lungs to accept air. It’s so much harder to breathe the air in a world where the people you trust the most let you down.

When I open my eyes, I see he’s sent another message.

Riverrat69: You knew it was me. You’ve known all this time, but you didn’t quit. Doesn’t that tell you something?

Tink24: I don’t want to quit. I love my job.

Now, more than ever. It feels important. I’ve spent my whole life never being taken seriously, and suddenly I have this job where people take my words very seriously. What I do matters, and if I leave the campaign, what are the chances I’d ever find another politician to take me on?

Riverrat69: You wanted to be close to me as much as I wanted to be close to you.

Tink24: I won’t play a role in destroying a marriage. This—whatever it was? It’s over.

Riverrat69: I respect that. I apologize for hurting you. I never wanted that. I was blinded by our connection. I’ve never felt that with anyone.

Tink24: I thought you were someone else. I wanted you to be someone else.

Riverrat69: Sam?

I draw in a ragged breath. My cheeks are wet. I’m crying, and I feel ugly inside. I haven’t only been avoiding him because it was the right thing to do. I’ve been avoiding him because I didn’t want to face what I’ve done.

Tink24: I’m deleting my account. This will be the last time we talk this way.

Riverrat69: I’ll miss seeing you. Take care of yourself.

Tink24: Are you saying I don’t have a job anymore?

Riverrat69: You’re welcome to stay, but as long as you’re close, I’ll want you.

I jump when my doorbell rings. Wiping away my tears, I answer it.

Sam’s looking across the street, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

Slowly, I open the door, but when he turns to me, his eyes aren’t angry. They’re hot.

He stalks toward me and slams the door behind him, making the entire house rattle. I back against a wall. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything. My sister just had a baby, and her husband’s a piece of shit. My dad’s running for governor, and I don’t know if I can trust anyone in my own damn family anymore. And . . . I have a girlfriend.” Then, as if that explains anything, he closes the space between us and kisses me hard. His lips crush against mine, then his tongue, and I’m opening to him without a thought.

My hands wrap around his thick biceps and his go to my neck and move their way down, sweeping over my shoulders and down my arms until he’s holding me with both of his hands at my waist, then further down, his fingers digging almost painfully into my hips.

He sweeps one hand between our bodies and cups me between my legs, rubbing me through my flannel sleep pants.

I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Don’t know what he wants beyond greedy hands and hungry kisses. But I know I can’t do this while my mind is still spinning about River, so I pull his hand away and sidestep his grasp.

He presses his hands against the wall and hangs his head as he catches his breath. “I’m not my father,” he whispers. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove I’m my own man, but I’ve never believed it.” He turns slowly and looks at me. “I’m sorry about tonight. I let family bullshit ruin Christmas with you. Forgive me.”