31

Nem blew out the glowing candles on the cake. Twenty-seven extinguished with one loud puff.

She looked up at Greg, beaming by her side, and smiled back.

“There! I’ve saved us from a fire hazard. Pay me later.”

He swooped an arm around her waist and kissed her on the head.

“So noble, young Padawan.”

“Yeah and I’ll kick your nerdy butt if you reference Star Wars again on my birthday. You know that good force, bad force stuff is lame, right? It doesn’t exist. Not to mention it’s commercialism, big time.”

“Okay, okay. Wisdom, this of, I will speak no more.”

Nem rolled her eyes.

“Seriously! You’re the only girl offended by Star Wars.”

“That’s because I’m smart.”

“And I’m not? Nice.”

Nem shook her head and sighed.

“Take it how you like Sir Nerd. Thought Jedi read minds?”

“If I was you, Princess-Lame-Humor, I’d be careful with the name-calling. This royal geek has a surprise.”

Greg reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box covered in gold paper and tied with a pink ribbon. Before Nem could say, you know, I don’t enjoy surprises, Greg fell to one knee and looked up at her.

“Nem Stratton, I love you and your quirky, mysterious ways.”

Then he paused, more uncertain than she’d ever seen him. He took a deep breath and continued. “Please do me the greatest honor of coming over from the dark side and living in the light, until the day we die? Which I pray is a long way off. Like a hundred million years.”

Nem stared down at Greg; inside a dozen emotions swirled. Happiness, excitement, gratitude, hope, pride. For one glorious second, her joy was so pure, she wanted the moment to never end. Then in an instant, swarming blackness entered her heart and devoured those feelings. She wanted to cry, stamp her feet and shout at the gods, in which she didn’t believe, by the way. Life was sometimes too unfair.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes. She blinked several times, trying to hold them back but a drop still slipped down her cheek.

Oh darn. Now he’ll think I’m crying for happiness and I’ll accept his proposal.

Nem would have loved to have said, yes.

Greg was adorable and Nem might even love him, and that made this so achingly difficult she could scream. This relationship should always have been temporary, but she’d begun to enjoy herself. Fun had equated to foolish.

Her mind darted around, looking for a reply that sounded believable and contained minimal hurt as to why they shouldn’t marry. Then over the following weeks and months, she’d dial down her enthusiasm and he’d leave, eventually.

Peter, her first love in her early twenties, deserted when her answer had been no.

This, despite her attempt to explain to him and share the truth. He laughed at her, making her angry, and she’d allowed herself that anger; never a great idea. When he left without a fight, she felt only gratitude knowing he’d be okay.