The door was moving up her back. No…wait….She was sliding down the door. It was really over.
Who was she kidding? This was over before it ever began. Michael was the same person now he’d been five years ago. Holding onto some false hope he might ever be hers was insane. It was masochistic.
It was heartbreaking…all over again.
Sara drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands. How would she ever make it through the weekend? Her heart seared in her chest at the thought of having to see him – with Nika – for the next few days. Seeing that hatred burn through his eyes again…She couldn’t bear that.
Hollow sobs burned her throat with every shallow intake of breath. She would say she was sick. Her friends would believe it; they had no reason not to. If she went to bed early then she could inform them of her illness in the morning and they would all leave her in peace.
Peace. That was a cruel joke. Even with no one in the room – or in the world, for that matter – Sara hadn’t known peace since the day she…since her…since…
There would be no peace. Sorrow was her familiar.
“Sara…I’m so sorry.”
She fought to swallow over the lump in her throat and looked up at him, caring naught for the mascara that must be streaming down her face. “For what?”
“For the way I reacted.” He knelt before her and took her hands in his. “I hesitated when the fire started because I was so focused on you and…” His voice trailed off and caring eyes searched her face. “I know how to respond to a fire. I should have put it out right away.”
“Oh.”
Soft fingers coaxed under her chin until their eyes met. “The fire’s out now. I won’t lie to you. There is some damage, but Sara, I can refinish it before the weekend’s over. It’ll be like the fire never happened. I promise you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Paul.”
“I know I don’t.” He began wiping the tears from under her eyes. “I want to do it.” His fingers stilled and his face turned somber. “I would do anything to see a smile on your face.”
Sara didn’t know how to respond. He thought the tears were because of her mother’s table. Truly, that would be better than wasting them over a man who never deserved a single one. Why couldn’t she snap herself out of this?
A soft tapping drew their attention to the door. Manicured fingernails slid around the door as it crept open. “Is she still mad at me?” Nika poked her head in and shot an anxious look at Paul. As soon as she saw the look on Sara’s face, her features crumbled as she rushed to her friend, knocking Paul onto his butt in her frenzy to get to Sara.
Nika’s arms flew around her, squeezing her tight. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. We can fix the table. It’s not as bad as you think. I promise we can fix it. You know what? You don’t even have to see it.” She turned to the door. “Michael! Lincoln! Dammit. They’re too slow.” She turned on Paul. “Get out there and tell them I want that table moved outside before Sara and I come back out of here.”
“Nika, you don’t…”
But she wasn’t listening. “I said go, Paul. I’ve got this under control in here, but you let them know there’ll be hell to pay if that table isn’t out of sight in five minutes.” As Paul was closing the door behind him, she repeated, “Five minutes, Kellerman! You people don’t want to know what’s going to happen if it’s not done.”
She turned back to Sara. “See? Everything’s going to be just fine. We just…oh…no.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“It’s nothing Nika can’t fix.” She pulled a travel mascara, lip gloss and an eye pencil out of her cleavage. “No worries.”
Sara’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? You carry your make-up around in your boobs?”
“Well, yeah.” She gestured to her figure. “Do you see any other place for make-up in this outfit?”
“But it’s just us this weekend. Why do you need to carry make-up around in the house?”
Nika went to work re-lining Sara’s eyes. “Because you just never know when you’ll need to look fabulous, chick.” Her lips pouted in concentration as she blended it in and studied her work. “Besides, I thought you were going to need some make-up touch ups tonight. Purse your lips for me. Of course, I thought you’d be in tears over the ring, not the table, but at least I was still prepared. It’s part of the Girl Scouts code of beauty.”
Ugh. The ring. Sara pressed her lips together to blend the lip gloss. “We were never Girl Scouts.”
“Well, we should have been. I would have rocked it.”
“You said the uniform clashed with your skin.”
“It did. The real kicker was when they told me I couldn’t dye it red and add sequins. Fluff your hair and you’re good to go.”
She did as instructed and flashed a smile at her friend. “Thank you, Nika. For everything.”
“Don’t even worry about it. But I think we should get back out there. Roni might be a tiny bit plastered out of her mind. She’s just bound to lose it on Jane before the night’s over. Cat fight city, I’m telling you.”
When they returned to the kitchen, the guys were on all fours, wiping up fire extinguisher foam while Jane and Roni stood side by side, heads tilted, admiring the view. “Doesn’t look like much of a cat fight to me,” Sara whispered.
Nika’s eyes were already on the guys. “Hmm…yeah…something about men on their knees…”
Michael glared back at her. “You know, you could help instead of just threatening us and then gawking at us.”
“Oh, I know, Mikey, but…” She shrugged. After staring him down for a long moment, she moved to the freezer and retrieved the margarita bucket. “Jane, be a dear and grab those glasses.” Nika sauntered back over to Sara and linked arms. “Come, ladies. It’s time for us to move into the living room and catch up with Roni.”
“Shup ut,” she growled, stumbling ahead of them into the living room.
Sara let herself be led into the next room. Nika was a godsend. Too many people who didn’t know her viewed her behavior as flighty and self-centered at best, but she had no doubt in her mind that every bit of that was designed to brighten her mood. Nika Volek really was the best friend she’d ever had.
Even if she had slept with Paul first and was going to soon be married to the man she was in love with…
They were halfway through their first margaritas when the guys joined them. Lincoln flopped down on the couch next to Jane and Michael stretched out on the floor by Nika. Where was Paul?
A gift bag appeared from over the top of her head and lowered down to her lap. Oh, that was Paul. Gifts didn’t float. That was silly.
How much tequila had Nika put in that frozen margarita bucket?
Paul’s arms circled her neck from behind and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I think we can skip the birthday game this time around.” His tone hardened. “Unless anyone has an objection.”
Michael shot pure death at Paul from his eyes and remained silent. Nika let out a squeal and grabbed Veronica’s hand. Roni looked at her like she was from Mars until understanding flitted over her face. They both turned expectant gazes in her direction.
Sara flicked the tip of her tongue over her glossed lips and managed a tiny smile. She didn’t have a clue what she’d say if she pulled out a ring box. Could she marry Paul? Sure, she’d known him for years, but did that count? Were you allowed to marry someone you hadn’t slept with if you didn’t live in the Bible?
Her dad liked Paul. That should count for something.
When was her dad coming back from D.C.?
“Sara,” Paul coaxed.
“Sorry. I, uh…need to put my drink somewhere.” He took it from her. “Thanks.”
Trying to ignore the six pairs of eyes on her, Sara began to pull out crinkled sheets of sparkly white tissue paper. There was a lot of paper, but it wasn’t wadded up or stuffed inside. Clearly, Paul took his time putting this together.
When she removed the last sheet of tissue, the tension became an eighth person in the room with them. Snow forming thousands of feet above them in the clouds could be heard. No one dared to breathe, not even Sara, when she removed the single object and held it in her hands. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined…
With careful fingers, she opened it. Fresh tears welled in her eyes and spilled freely over her cheeks. All she could do was stare at what she saw. It was perfect in every way. Only someone able to crawl into the hidden depths of her subconscious could have picked out this gift. No, gift was wrong. Gift could never express the simple perfection of what she held in her hands.
For what she held in her hand was so much more than a birthday present; it was something only a true soul mate could give her.
Peace moved into her heart and settled beside sorrow.
© 2009, Sydney Katt. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use of content will result in dragon attacks.
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