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“God,” she said with sufficient angst. “It’s like I’m in love with him or something. I mean, I feel like someone just shoved their fist into my chest and squeezed the hell out of my heart until the blood ran dry. And there’s just…no fucking use for it anymore.” Her fingers shook as she pressed the tissue to her eyes and sopped up more moisture.
“Jesus, honey. I’m so sorry. I mean, damn it. One minute you’re on cloud nine and spending Valentine’s in Paris—shit, what woman wouldn’t be delirious over that prospect?—and the next…”
“I’m back to square one.” Staci groaned. “Maybe that’s what hurts the most. I knew not to get involved with Evan. But I couldn’t help it. He’s just so…everything. And now I’m just so…screwed.” She blew her nose. And more tears fell.
“Stace, isn’t there some way to work it out?”
“Maxi, the man happened to have two days out of his busy schedule to spend with me and he thought, Okay, this’ll work! Then reality came along and slapped us both in the face. I don’t blame Evan. Not at all. We both got caught up in the moment, in each other. Whatever. It was irrational and impractical and just plain stupid. So fucking stupid. Who just drops everything for romance?”
“But you weren’t dropping everything. You’re both committed to the things in your lives. The real question here, Stace, is whether you want to figure out how to work one more component into your life: Evan.”
She pushed away from the breakfast table at her home, where she and Maxi had hashed this all out over bear claws and coffee.
“It hurt so much to go through this with Jeremy,” Staci said. “And it hurts even more right now. I don’t know what that means.”
“Except that maybe you did fall in love with Evan?”
“No one falls in love in two weeks, Maxi.”
Her brow jumped. “Don’t be so sure. It happened practically overnight for me and Ryan.”
“That’s different.”
“How?” Maxi gently demanded.
“I don’t know. It just is.”
Maxi sighed. “So what are you going to do now?”
“It’s too late for the family cruise. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just suck it up and go to Paris on my own.”
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“For Valentine’s Day? Are you masochistic?”
“Jean Marquis got me a reservation at Le Jules Verne. It would be so wrong of me to cancel.”
“I’m sure they’d understand.”
“Maxi, I’ve spent the last ten Valentine’s Days alone.” Staci hitched her chin. “I’m resigned to the fact that I’m going to spend the next ten or more alone.”
“So you’re giving up?”
“I’ve told you before that romance wasn’t my thing. Besides, a shopping spree soothes the sting over a breakup, and where better to max out my credit cards than Paris?”
“Stace…”
“I’ll be fine.” She hugged her friend. “This too shall pass. Right?”
* * *
It was definitely an insane idea to keep her dinner reservation in Paris.
What the hell was I thinking?
Staci sat at the bar, asking herself that question for the millionth time. Sure, she’d shopped till she’d nearly dropped. And had shipped a dozen dresses back home. That had perked her up a tiny bit.
She’d scarfed down some French pastries and decadent chocolate, and that had provided a modicum of relief.
