“I don’t want to hear from you ever again. I’m worth more than a man-child who doesn’t honor his word.” Lacey swipes another tear, then turns away, her head high, and walks out of the kitchen.

Her mom, a small woman who looks just like her but with fine wrinkles and glasses, rushes after her. Mr. Duporte, a big-fisted, ex-football-player-turned-businessman type, puffs his chest out.

“As my daughter said, we’ll communicate through the lawyers.”

Will gives Mr. Duporte a cordial nod. He looks distant and cold. Since I spoke, he hasn’t once looked at me.

“I’ll give you a ride back to your bed and breakfast,” Will says.

“Like hell.” Mr. Duporte swings toward him and levels Will with a glare.

Will quirks an eyebrow. “Your taxi’s gone. It will be another thirty minutes minimum for it to return. Your choice.”

Mr. Duporte scowls. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Will turns to follow him, not even giving Gavin or me a glance. As if, for him, I’ve ceased to exist. Desperation fills me. I thought he’d promised he wouldn’t let me go. That if I chose Gavin he’d steal me and lock me away so I’d always be his. What about that promise?

“Will,” I say.

His back is turned but he pauses at the kitchen entry.

“Please. Look at me.”

He turns around slowly. I wipe the orange juice off my face. When he finally focuses on me I give him a hesitant smile.

His bottom lip quivers, but then he presses his mouth flat. His eyes flicker to a warmer blue at my smile but then they snap to cold and impersonal. My heart cracks. It’s like before, when I’d smile and he’d look away. Except it’s not exactly the same as before, because now I love him and I think he loves me. I’m not choosing Gavin over him, not ever. I’m not choosing some fantasy of a soul mate. I don’t want a fantasy. I want him.

“Will,” says Gavin. “Sorry about the merger. I didn’t want that to happen.”

Will looks at Gavin and gives a curt nod but doesn’t say anything.

“We’re soul mates, Jessie and me, can you believe it?” There’s a hollow note in Gavin’s voice.

Will turns to look at me and lifts an eyebrow sardonically. “No, I can’t. You must be so happy.”

“We’re not soul mates,” I say to Gavin. I turn to Will. “We’re not.”

“Call her,” Gavin says.

“What? Call who?”

“The old lady. Call her. Confirm it. I need to know I didn’t lose my fiancée for nothing.” There’s a desperate light in Gavin’s eyes, as if now that he’s jumped from the plane, he realizes he doesn’t have a parachute.

“Okay,” I say. Then I flush. “I don’t have my phone.”