Page 96 of Hot Shot

My insides are twisted up in knots. I’m so confused.

My parents don’t want me to leave. They really are going to miss me. Somehow I didn’t think my absence would have any effect on them. Also, I do feel guilty about leading them on about me and Marco. In the end it won’t matter, because I’ll go to Spain and that will end things between us. Although Mom seems to think otherwise.

Which makes my insides hurt even more.

Then there are all these crazy photography job offers coming in. I want to accept them, but how am I supposed to do that? I only have a couple of weeks, and my days are already full with wedding stuff, getting ready to move, and hopefully moving forward with plans for the drop-in center.

I’m torn between the chance to go to Spain to improve my photography through study and travel, or stay here to seize this opportunity—and stay with my family, friends, and Marco.

I’ve fallen in love with him.

Leaving him will break my heart and hurt like I’ve never been hurt before.

I turn to face him. “Marco.” Then my mouth dries up and I swallow.

“Yeah?”

“I-I’m confused.”

“About?”

“Everything.” I twist my hands together. “I’m getting all these crazy offers to do portraits for famous people, and I want to do them. But I can’t. Because I’m leaving. And I’m starting to wonder.” God. I can’t tell him how I feel. Can I? I search for words. “I’m starting to wonder if going to Spain is the right thing to do.”

He gazes back at me, his face impassive. “You said you have to do this. You said it was important to you.”

“It is.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. This isn’t the response I’m hoping for. “I want to prove myself. You’ve met my family. You know how they see me. I’ve finally done something that almost lives up to all of their achievements. I can’t just bail on this. Then I’ll just be the dumb blonde they’ve always thought I am. But . . .” I blink at him. “If I go away for nine months now, I lose these opportunities. I’ll never get that back.”

“Sounds like you have a tough choice to make.”

I stare at him. My lower lip starts to quiver and I swallow again. “Yes. I guess I do.”

I wait. I want him to say something to help with my decision.

Finally he says, “Well. I should go.”

“What?” My heart lurches. “You’re not staying?”

“Not tonight.” He drops his gaze briefly. “You know . . . maybe we should just end things now.”

I go very still. “What? Why? W-we have two more weeks. And th-the wedding is next weekend . . .”

“Yeah. The wedding.” He nods. Then he moves his hands from mine and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me against him, and I stiffen at first, then slide my arms around his waist and relax against his body, so big, hard, and warm. Oh so comforting. But he’s leaving. Ending things between us.

It’s going to happen anyway. We both know it. So why does this hurt so much?

“Next weekend, we’ll be at the wedding together, celebrating Beck and Hayden’s marriage. We’ll do it for them. Right?”

“R-right.” We stand for long moments, holding each other tight. How can I let go of him?

Finally he releases me and steps back. He kisses my forehead. “See you next weekend.”

Somehow I make it through the week. I feel strangely numb, moving automatically through the tasks I need to get done. I do more packing, pick up things I’ll need, meet with my mom and Anna at the gallery—without Marco, help Hayden pick up decorations and force myself to sit through manicures and pedicures the day before the wedding.

I somehow act so normal Hayden doesn’t even realize my world is falling apart.

But this is my choice.

It hurts so much that Marco ended things, and yet I understand why. Because we never committed to anything more than this fling before I leave. Somehow it started to feel like so much more than that, though.

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