#*carter

“You didn’t have to pick me up,” Carter said, which was less an indication of shame and more a statement of fact. But there Shiera was, more beautiful than the day he’d met her, and here Carter was entering her car through the passenger’s side all the same.

“I wouldn’t have minded riding the bus.”

The divorce had been so long ago, and though with time he’d adjusted to finding an anchor in life that wasn’t his soulmate, that didn’t make seeing Shiera any less jarring than it always was. He still felt that pull, that tie-- the knowledge that she was meant to be in his life and he was meant to be in hers-- and Carter supposed it would never go away.

But he also knew now, for sure, that he wouldn’t die without her.

Apparently there was a reason people went to therapy after all.

He was silent as Shiera started driving away from the hospital, hands in his pockets to help with the restlessness in him. Even when he turned to look at her, he was silent, only taking in the poise she had when she drove, that elegant beauty that was wholly hers.

Until he managed, “Hector said he’d come to St. Louis once he sorted some Fate business out.