Not Since You by Jenna Jared

get…well…you know what I mean. Besides, Sarah was my best friend and I just feel strange, knowing you were her husband instead—instead of mine."
    There. She'd said it. And boy, didn't it sound stupid?
    Zack turned his head, not taking his eyes from the road. "I never stopped—"
    "I know, Zack. And that's what makes it worse. It's like you were cheating on her all that time, with me."
    "But I wasn't." He shook his head. "I wasn't anywhere near you, Carrie."
    "Yet, you said that all that time you were her husband, you were thinking about me. So how is that really any different, Zack?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Zack. I can't." She swallowed a lump in her throat.
    Right. You keep telling yourself that, she thought. I'm not going to cry again. "Just…please. I'm not saying we'll never see each other again. I'm just saying—give me some time, okay?" Time to make peace with myself. And with Sarah.
    Peace would be good. Then a small voice in the back of her head—Nana's voice—piped up. Peace is good, it said. But sex? That's better .

Chapter Seven
     
    The doorbell rang. Carrie ran down the stairs with Ellie walking carefully and close behind, the veterinarian's plastic after-surgery cone on her head clonking, chonkchonkchonk on each step. She was surprised the dog hadn’t worked her way out of the thing; she could escape from every other thing and place.
    The bell rang again. Please be Zack, she thought.
    True to his word, Zack had stayed away, and after three long days and even longer nights, she'd had enough time to herself. She hadn't come to any decisions, but her heart ached with longing for him. She couldn't stand it anymore.
    "Zack!" She flung the door open. But it wasn't him. It was…Sarah? Standing in the doorway, flinging Carrie back eighteen years. A summer morning, Sarah on the porch in her bathing suit and a pair of cutoffs. "Let's go to the beach! I want to watch the hotties."
    Carrie halted, her heart in her mouth. First a Houdini hound, and now a visit from a dead friend?
                  "Sarah?" she whispered.
                  "No, it's me. Samantha. Sarah's daughter."
                  Carrie's head cleared; of course, it wasn't Sarah. It was her daughter, wearing cutoff shorts and a bikini top. The hotties? Only a memory. "Samantha? What…is everything okay? Come on in." She opened the door and the girl stepped inside. Ellie jumped up and put her paws on the girl's shoulders, her tail waving gently. She reached outside of her cone to draw her tongue over Samantha's cheek in a doggie welcome. Or else she was tasting her. Carrie started to push the dog down, but Sam neatly stepped aside. "Down," she said firmly, putting her hand out flat, palm down. And—to Carrie's surprise—the dog got down. In fact, she lay down, watching Samantha, with an expression of You goddess. I love you , clearly written on her face.
                  "Wow. How did you do that?"
                  The girl shrugged. "Dad taught me. I help him at the community center, sometimes. I teach little kids how to train their dogs."
                  "You mean, you train kids." Carrie smiled.
                  Samantha's eyebrows arched as she smiled—another Sarah trait. Carrie's heart clenched again. Sarah. It has to be you. It was like being given a second chance.
                  But she couldn't say a word, couldn't explain. She couldn't say I'm sorry or I miss you , or even I'm such a bitch , because no matter how much Samantha looked like her mother, she wasn't her. Sometimes, there were no second chances, Carrie realized.
    All she could do now was wait and see why the girl was here.
    Sam smiled. "I hadn't thought about the training that way, but I guess you're right. I train the kids—they teach their dogs." She paused, then gestured to the house. "It looks like you've been busy. Dad said you were trying to fix it up to sell it. You're