Disclaimer: This is all probably really obvious, but for whatever reason I keep feeling compelled to make these disclaimers. "More Like a River" still belongs to So Weird / Jon Cooksey and Ali Marie Matheson / Disney Channel. "Fair" still belongs to Remy Zero, even though they broke up. I still don't own the characters or the show, but if I did, this is what would happen…

Chapter Nine

It was a dream. It must have been a dream. That didn't really happen, did it?

As I opened my eyes and realized that yes, I was in Carey's bed, and yes, he was lying beside me, still asleep, and yes, we were both entangled in the thin cotton sheet we shared, with nothing covering our bodies besides that. And yes, it really happened.

I probably should have been kicking myself. I probably should have jumped out of bed, put some clothes on, and gotten the hell out of there before he could wake up and stop me. I could go to Rachel's, not call, ignore any attempts he made to contact me, and leave New York on Thursday without saying goodbye. But instead I just smiled and nuzzled in close to him, resting my head on his chest.

Just give me one more moment

One more moment

To finish this dream…

I closed my eyes and listening to the rhythmic pattern of his breathing. I almost fell asleep again, but soon felt him moving gently below me. "Morning," he whispered, and I felt him kiss the top of my head.

"Good morning," I said softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I've slept in four years," he replied, and lifted up my chin to kiss me on the lips. "I could really get used to being your friend again," he murmured.

I laughed. "I guess this didn't exactly go as I planned."

"It's good to change your plans sometimes," he breathed, gently kissing down my neck. I wasn't about to argue. We didn't get out of bed for another hour.

He left to go make breakfast and ordered me not to leave the room until it was ready. I, of course, easily complied. He closed the door behind him and I hummed to myself, rummaging through my duffle bag to find something suitable to wear that day. I also should have given Rachel a call to explain exactly why I hadn't gone to her apartment the day before, but that could wait. As I pulled out the blouse I wanted to wear, a piece of paper fell out and fluttered to the floor. My eyes quickly ran over the words that I had read a million times before.

Dear Molly,

I knew you'd be upset when I told you what I had to do. And I knew that I probably wouldn't be able to explain to you the reason why, and maybe I'd never be able to tell you where I was going. But believe me, it's better this way…

For the first time ever, I read the letter and smiled. Its words were meaningless now. I carefully folded it back up and tucked it back into my bag, and got dressed for the day. I was putting on some makeup when Carey came back into the room.

"You don't need that," he said simply, and pulled the lipstick out of my hand.

I looked at him and cocked my head to one side. "I think you need to have your eyes checked."

He leaned in a little closer to my face and squinted. "Hm, maybe you're right…"

"Carey!"

He laughed and kissed me tenderly. It was getting a little more intense when he pulled back. "Our breakfast's going to get cold…"

"Do you think I care about breakfast?" I pulled him closer to me.

He kissed my forehead and then took my hand and led me into the tiny kitchen area. I surveyed the plates on the table, filled with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast. "Well? Do you care about breakfast now?"

"It looks delicious," I said. It smelled delicious too. "I don't think we'll be able to eat it all, though…"

"No, trust me, we will," Carey said seriously. "My eating habits haven't changed a bit." Sure enough, he ended up scarfing down about three-quarters of the food. I watched him, amused. He was right—something things never do change.

We went to the station together and I served, more or less, as his personal groupie. I couldn't care less. Julia let me sing a few songs, and it was a little weird, but in a good way. Afterwards we walked through the city streets, my arm through his, and later we watched the sunset from the roof of his apartment complex.

The next two days were like that. Romantic, chaotic, spontaneous, and I wouldn't trade them for the world. But my mind began to wander, as it always does. The first few times Irene crossed my mind, I tried to block her out, but eventually she became harder to ignore. I wanted desperately to mention it to Carey, but held back. Things were going too well.

And you were somehow

The rain this thing could allow

I tried, but it's all wrong

I just couldn't shove aside the nagging feeling that this was all going to come to an end very soon. We still hadn't discussed what would happen when I left on Thursday, and I suspected that Carey honestly believed I would stay with him in New York. I was afraid that my heart would once again defy all logic and that I really would stay in New York. There seemed to be no happy solution to the problem, and I tried to convince myself that maybe the best thing for both of us would be to end it, finally—to enjoy our last moments together as much as we could—and go our separate ways. But the fact of the matter was that I couldn't bear to lose him again. I wished he'd come back with me to Hope Springs, I wished Irene would be more understanding now, I wished we could be frozen in this wonderful moment in time—I wished anything, as long as it didn't involve losing him.

You're so strong

But this life's work

And choice took far too long

Where'd it go?

But some things never change, and that includes the fact that I never seem to get what I want.

Tonight the sun shall see its light…