Blame It On Paris

ton of people, all the people who are part of our lives. And for what? I hope to God you've got a damned good reason.' He snapped, 'You couldn't have a good enough reason.'

She took a breath, and tried to speak. Couldn't find her voice. He had every right to yell, to be angry. To try to reason with her. To be hurt.

She had every reason to feel guilt and anguish over hurting someone who'd been nothing but good to her.

Worse yet, she looked at him and still loved him. The way she'd always loved him. She wasn't just losing a fiance out of this mess. She was losing her oldest friend.

'You know what?' He tipped back his glass again, his gaze boring into hers. 'I'll go out right now. Go hit some bars. Find a woman, screw her. Then we'd be even. So if it's just about that, some short-term cheating, I think it sucks, but we can get past it. I know we can get past it.'

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

She was the one at fault for this, so she wasn't about to let herself play the tears card. And she ignored his suggestion about the mutual cheating-it was so like him to want a nice, tidy way to fix things. Only what was wrong with her and Jason wasn't about Will, and it wasn't about anything that could be fixed. 'Jason.' she said gently. 'I'll love you until the day I die. But not the way you want to be loved. In the long run, there's no way in the universe it could have worked for us, because I'm just not the woman you think I am. The woman you want me to be.'

'That's my call. You think I never realized your feelings aren't as strong as mine?'

'They never were,' she agreed softly. 'That's exactly the problem. I never realized it before. We were always pushed to be a pair. Our families always wanted us together. We had aunts planning our wedding when we were in middle school. You never looked at anyone else.'

'Because I knew it was you from the time we were kids!'

'And I tried to be-I wanted to be-your other half. I wanted to be as in love as you were. I wanted to feel like you did…' She could see in his face how much she was hurting him. It sucked. Trying to explain was only making it worse. Every word she said made him feel more unloved.

After a while, though, he lost the crushed look and thankfully started getting mad. What did she expect to do with the apartment? All their mutual stuff? Had she told her mother? His? What was she going to say? What were they supposed to tell everyone?

'I'm moving out,' she said. 'It was your place first. You can have everything. I'm only packing up my clothes and personal stuff.'

'Well, that's just more shit. You knew you were going to do this without even talking to me?'

The scene deteriorated further after that. He called her selfish. Stupid. She was making an impulsive decision that involved the rest of their lives, and she hadn't thought it through. She'd had a momentary change of heart, a panic attack, which was normal for everybody, but no, she had to turn it into a god-awful, hurtful, life-altering event for both of them, and for what? 'Haven't I been there for you? You've got a decent guy who loves you, who's always stood by you-that'd be me-and you're throwing me away like I was nothing?'

When he left, he slammed the door so hard her ears popped. She sank onto the couch, with her hands shaking and her eyes stinging hard.

Okay, she thought, but of course, nothing was remotely okay. Her stomach lurched. She sprang to her feet and barely made it into the bathroom before hurling.

Somewhere in the packed bags was her toothbrush and toothpaste, but she had no idea where.

She leaned over the bathroom sink and splashed cold water into her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. Her head was pounding so hard she could hardly think. She hadn't slept in more than twenty-four hours, had no idea when she'd last had a meal. She had no idea where she was going to sleep, no plan for a place to live, now had to tell her mother and everyone else about the broken engagement and had to confront her mother about her father, as well…

A sudden picture of Will popped into her mind. His smile. The way he'd taken charge after the mugging. The way he'd spun into her life, pulling her into a dance of love and life and laughter and passion. His face. His eyes. The shape and texture and heat of his mouth on hers.

She sucked in a breath.

Banished the memories, the picture.

Paris was a fantasy. She might as well steel herself to reality, because there was every chance she'd never see Will again.

Still, it mattered. What he'd taught her about emotion and love-and herself. Without Will, she'd never have figured out what really mattered to her. She'd have settled for something that didn't.

In the meantime, though, she had a whole life to tear up. So far, it seemed to be going as pleasantly as a train wreck.

TWO MORNINGS LATER, Kelly was pacing inside the door at the Olive Garden when her mom walked in.

She quit chewing on a nail and breathed in. She'd called her mother before this, obviously, to let her know she was home safe and sound. But this was their first face-to-face meeting. Kelly had chosen her mom's favorite lunch haunt, given herself a couple days to gear up for this major powwow and told herself that a public place was the ideal spot for this meeting. It was the only way they'd both have a shot at keeping the discussion quiet and relatively unemotional. They'd have to stay rational in public.

But Kelly wasn't positive she could approach this rationally, no matter what. She felt roughed up and ruffled before she even got here.

Char flew in the door, eyes zooming across the lobby until she spotted her. In an instant, Kelly was smothered in a boisterously warm hug and kiss.

'God, I've missed you. Maybe you were only gone for a couple weeks, but I worried so much about how that mugging affected you. And I just missed talking to you. And my heavens, you look so different. A little shorter hairstyle? Very French. But you've lost weight, sweetheart, and you really could use a few pounds. Gaynelle and I went shopping again and found our dresses, did I tell you? We both picked out peach. Hers is fussier, naturally, you know how she likes her ruffles and frills. But that's the thing, the dresses are so different that I don't think it matters if they're a similar color-'

'Mom, I need to get this said right off. There isn't going to be any wed-'

'Oh, honey. That blue top looks fantastic on you. Did you get it in Paris?' Her mother was dressed for a typical high-powered real-estate day, a spring-lavender suit with matching heels, her blond hair worn simple and sleek, in a long, smooth comma that framed her face.

All Kelly's life, she had thought her mother was outstandingly beautiful. Still did. Actually, she'd always felt like an ugly duckling next to her mom, which was pretty stupid, considering her mom didn't have a vain bone in her body and had never done anything but praise her only daughter to the high hills and back.

'Mom.' Kelly tried to interrupt the soliloquy again, but even when the waitress led them to a table in the back rooms, even when Char swiftly ordered for both of them-it was easier that way, always prevented a world war and a two-hour discussion- Kelly had a hard time breaking in.

'You don't look any the worse for wear. A little tired and a little thinner. But otherwise… well, I can see that something's different. Besides the blue top. I talked to Jason's dad when I dropped off Gaynelle. He said he hadn't talked to Jason in a couple of days, but I think everybody was trying to give you two a little space, knowing you were fresh back and hadn't seen each other in a while.' Her mom smiled mischievously, then zoomed on. 'It's killing me. Thinking of what I want to give you for the wedding. I know, money is all kids want today. But I'd really like to give you two something seriously-'

'Mom, the wedding's off.'

'-unique. It's not about expense. It's about something seriously personal-' Abruptly, Char snapped her fingers. 'Darn it. I forgot to tell you! Your aunts want to have a shower. We know, we know, you haven't set a date for sure beyond sometime close to next Christmas, but that's just the point. It takes time to find the right place and get it reserved, and especially around the holidays, things get booked fast. We're thinking about a couples' shower, because it's so much more fun. So in the evening. And-'

'Mom-'

'What, dear?'

'Jason and I broke up. There won't be a wedding. I'm not living in the apartment anymore.'

'What?' Her mom had just dipped into the bread basket by then, had a knife with a