Page 70 of Parallel

“So, what’s up?” she asks softly. “You and Jeff neverfight.”

“He left this morning for his camping trip,” I reply, flinching a little. He went away for his bachelor party and Icheatedon him. I can’t believe I did it, but I can’t quite regret it either. “We aren’tfighting.”

She tips her head, thinking, and then her mouth opens into a perfect circle. “Oh. My. God. You slept with thatdoctor.”

She’s not accurate, of course, but she’s not that far off from it either, which is pretty impressive. “I didn’t sleep withhim.”

She leans forward, her whole face alight, more excited than she is concerned. “Tell meeverything.”

So I do. Jeff’s inability to sit through the movie. The trip to the lake. Nick asking me to call off the wedding. Thekiss.

That’s when her face falls. “That’sit? He only kissedyou?”

I manage another smile. Only Caroline would be disappointed that I didn’t cheatenough. “I kissed him back, and…I don’t know.” My voice catches. “I have no idea what I’m even doinganymore.”

“Quinn,” she groans, “do I need to get a flashing neon sign? Or maybe have God descend from Heaven and speak to you directly? It’s so freaking obvious you shouldn’t be marrying Jeff to everyone alive but you and yourmom.”

I sink low into the cushions behind me. I want her to convince me she’s right. It’s probably why I came here in the first place. And, at the same time, I need to convince her she’s wrong—except the objections I can actually sayaloudare weak ones. “I loveJeff.”

“You may love him, but not in the right way,” she argues. “He’s familiar and you care about him, but there’s no spark. I’ve never once seen you light up about him the way you do when you’re discussingNick.”

“Even if that’s true, Jeff gave up everything to come down here. And my dad…hebeggedme at the end to choose him. It’s like he knew something Ididn’t.”

She leans forward. “He was a dying man high on painkillers, and you were his baby. He just wanted to leave the world knowing you were taken care of. And that’s sweet, but that doesn’t mean he waspsychic.”

It’s so tempting to let her sway me, but my fears remain. And I can’t imagine breaking up with Jeff this late in the game, especially when the rest of his life isn’t going sowell.

“At least tell me how the kiss was,” she urges. “Because if he’s the guy who uses too much tongue or whatever, you need to say so upfront, so I know whether or not to encourage your fling or discourage it. You know my opinions on tongueusage.”

I laugh through my tears. “Yes, you prefer it sparingly. Iknow.”

“And?”

I can still feel the imprint of him on my mouth. The heat, the pressure. The smell of his soap, the needy way his fingertips pressed to my skin. I want to groan at the memory. “It was good,” I admit.Such an understatement. It wasperfect.

“Well, then I feel like there’s only one foolproof way to decide if you should go through with your wedding,” she says. “You have to sleep withNick.”

I glance at her to make sure she’s joking. I’m not entirely sure she is. “I’m notsleepingwith him. I’m not acheater.”

“Fine. I’ll make the ultimate sacrifice and sleep with him myself and report back toyou.”

I know she’s joking, but it doesn’t stop jealousy from tearing through me like a white-hot needle. I bury my head in my hands. He broke up with Meg, but there will be someone to replace her eventually. Even if I choose him, there will be someone else eventually anyway, thanks to the tumor. And that thought makes me want to run from all this now, before it hurts evenmore.

* * *

Eventually I returnto my empty home, despite Caroline’s entreaties to join her for enough margaritas that I “forget about Jeff entirely”. I move woodenly through all the normal things I’d do on a night at home. I shower, put on pajamas, and stick a frozen pizza in the oven. There is nothing different about my life. It just makes me feel numb. I think perhaps I’ve been numb for a very long time, and meeting Nick is what’s made me realizeit.

I watch hour after hour of a stupid sitcom that doesn’t elicit a single laugh. It’s after ten, and I’m preparing to go to bed when lights turn in the driveway. My heart leaps despiteitself.

Jeff’s deep in the Pennsylvania mountains right now. And there’s only one other person who’d show up at thishour.

I know I should make him leave. Maybe I shouldn’t answer at all. But that eager, desperate part of me throws the door open anyway…to find Jeff climbing out of histruck.

He carries his gear into the house and I hold the door, while disappointment continues to carve itself wide through my stomach. I’m not even capable of a fake smile, much less a real one. “What happened to your bachelorparty?”

He dumps the last of his gear in the foyer and points at the lightning off to the west. “It’s supposed to storm all night. Wasn’t really ideal for a campingtrip.”

There’s something forced in the words which makes me suspect I’m not getting the whole truth. “But…you didn’t want to go to a bar or something atleast?”

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