A/N: Ahh, the end. Yay.
Adam woke up on the floor of his apartment in Minneapolis, still wearing the clothes he flew in with and an unattractive puddle of drool pooling by his mouth. With a dry mouth Adam waited for his vision to stop blurring as he attempted to glance at his watch. Adam's neck was stiff from sleeping on the hardwood floor and his left arm was numb from lying on his side. Adam tried to shake his arm with no luck. It lay limply without feeling.
Adam's face paled as he remembered the past days' events. The clock in the kitchen read 3:30 in the afternoon—the ceremony was supposed to be halfway over by now. Weddings were meant to symbolize the beginning, but for Adam it represented the end. His chance for happiness was dying a quiet little death with each passing second. It was that little death that vaguely ashamed him. That was his problem--life had kicked Adam in the gut and he stayed down for the count. But inside, Adam realized that he couldn't blame anyone—Roxanne, Stacey, fate—but himself. Tamsin had been right. He was the one who made the choices, and it was Adam who would face the consequences.
Billy was a good guy—perfect, almost. He would take care of Tamsin and give her everything she would ever need. That was all Adam could ask for at this point. But where did Adam go now? He was 25, so obviously he had a lot of life to lead—even if the outlook was bleak. Could he make the rest of his life worthwhile—or more importantly, could he muster the effort to care?
Adam gazed out the window and allowed a smirk that was almost a grimace escape his lips. He could see Crazy Larry at his usual spot by the Korean fruit stands across from the apartment building. Crazy Larry sat there everyday for at least the last three years, crouching, looking like he was ready to pounce. Obviously, they called the homeless man Crazy Larry for a reason. One day, Crazy Larry started screaming of retribution and the end. The tone of his screams curdled the blood in Adam's veins. Since that day Crazy Larry leaned against the red brick building of some tax firm, head limp and eyes staring heaven-bound. Adam didn't know how, but the life seemed to be sucked out of him. People still dropped coins in Crazy Larry's worn Styrofoam cup, but he no longer muttered angry gibberish or sang odd songs. It was no use helping him, Adam realized. Crazy Larry was intent on leaving this world, somehow. And when a person had that mindset, all anyone else could do was hold the door open with a flourish and give a friendly smile. The course of nature and the cruelty of the streets would deny Crazy Larry that right and Adam wondered—would anybody do that for him?
Adam shook himself out of the contemplative gaze. Of course, Adam knew he was being overly dramatic. He would not end his life or endanger his health in any way. At the worst, Adam might get totally plastered while enjoying the tunes of a Metallica cd lost in the dark abyss of his closet. Adam had a good life, a life to be envied. He had a great job with the promise of quick ascension up the corporate ladder. Adam had some of the greatest friends on earth—Scooter gave the air of irresponsibility and carelessness, but Adam knew that he could count on him for anything. Charlie lived in D.C. now, but neither time nor distance had tempered their adolescent bonds. Guy and Averman were reliably loyal running mates. The upscale apartment that he and Scooter shared could house most upper-middle class families, and yet they treated it as if it were a regular junkie bachelor pad. Hell, Adam was the reigning champion of his fantasy baseball league and even though Scooter still killed him at Madden Football, he was getting pretty good.
It would take Adam time, but he would get over Tamsin. There would be other girls—and a woman who he would eventually marry. Adam would have children, watch them grow up, and go to college—all without Tamsin. He would name his son Macgowan (That was his grandfather's name) and his daughter Josephine. Scratch that—Josephine had been Tamsin's idea. Tamsin thought that "Posie" would be a really cool nickname to raise a daughter on. So she would probably want to use that one, and in a couple of years perfect love-child Posie Maguire would be born. And maybe Adam didn't need Tamsin. She had her faults and they experienced their own share of bad times. When they got in fights, Tamsin was capable of making him feel like nothing—she could be ruthless and cold. She strived so hard to be fully independent that sometimes Adam felt alienated--superfluous in her life. Adam had to convince himself that he was better off without her. Maybe after a couple of drinks it wouldn't seem like such a lie. Adam would ignore the fact that he had just as many faults regarding their relationship. In fact, he was the one who made the ultimate mistake in the end. Adam knew the truth—Tamsin was the one who was better off without him.
The door bell rang and Adam was startled. He must have ordered Chinese before passing out on the floor or something. As Adam headed towards the door, he fumbled in his pockets, searching for his wallet. Vaguely Adam hoped that he remembered to order orange chicken—he was in the mood for that. But all thoughts escaped his head when Adam opened the door. Tamsin stood there, looking as if she hoped that no one would answer. The expression on her face was of overwhelmed confusion, fear, or longing. Adam didn't ask any questions. He just wrapped his arms around her and figured that everything might actually work out, after all. Pilar believed in second chances, so why couldn't he?