"Wednesday night? You talked to Ty on Wednesday night about us?"

A quick reel played through her head of all the ways he'd touched her in the nearly three days since then, all the times she'd told him she loved him. She'd thought she was safe with Cole. She'd thought she'd found comfort in his arms.

Lies.

They'd all been lies.

"We don't know for sure that she heard what I said to him, that she printed it in the paper.

Maybe everyone is calling to congratulate us."

"Don't lie to me anymore, Cole. At least respect me enough to admit that you know that's not why they're calling."

And the truth was, she didn't have to read the article to know that all of her dreams had come crashing down. Hadn't she known all along that this would happen if she were stupid enough--weak enough--to let herself fall for Cole?

She lifted her chin, standing there naked in front of him, her stupid body still wanting his despite the way he'd sliced through the center of her heart.

"We need to talk to your grandmother."

She saw the moment he realized the full ramifications of what he'd done, the way his face fell even further than it already had. "She doesn't deserve this."

"I agree. That's why I need to go apologize to her. In person." She paused, waited for her heart to start beating again, then realized it was going to take a hell of a lot longer than this. "And I want a divorce."

She couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see his reaction as she picked up her phone and ignored the half-dozen messages blinking on it. She dialed the travel agent with whom she'd booked all of her siblings' wedding trips and honeymoons.

"I need to buy the very next ticket from San Francisco to Las Vegas, please."

Cole took the phone from her before she could grip it tighter. "Make that two tickets.

First class out of SFO. Yes, noon works."

Anna walked past him as he was reciting his credit card number from memory. She locked the bathroom door behind her, and as she stood beneath the spray of the shower she tried not to face the real reason her face was drenched.

She'd asked Cole for a divorce once before and it hadn't happened.

Looked like the second time was the charm.

* * *

"Hi, Mom." Anna was sitting in the back of a taxi on the way to the airport, Cole tailgating them in his car. She hadn't said a word to him since getting out of the shower and though he'd barely taken his eyes off her until the taxi came, he hadn't pushed her.

She'd pulled up the article on her phone the minute she'd climbed into the taxi. Each word Cynthia had written--about how she and Cole had seemed like a fairytale come to life, only to realize that, unfortunately, their relationship really was too good to be true--had ripped another chunk out of Anna's heart. Now, as her mother poured sympathy over the wireless line, another wave of sorrow gripped her.

"I'm sorry," she said softly to her mother. "I should never have lied to you. Especially when you knew right from the start that everything wasn't okay." She'd purposefully avoided seeing or speaking with her parents and sisters during the week because she hadn't wanted to face the truth. She hadn't wanted to see that she was acting crazy.

Not good crazy, whatever she'd thought that was.

Bad crazy.

But now that she was forcing herself to be honest, completely, painfully honest, wasn't it also true that the way she felt as she sat in the back of the taxi wasn't entirely Cole's fault? He hadn't forced her to do anything, hadn't held a gun to her head and made her say the things she'd said to her family and friends and the journalist.

Just like she'd told him, everything she'd done, every lie she'd told, had ultimately been her choice. They were entirely on her own head. Weighing in her gut.

Creating the holes in her heart.

"No," she said to her mother, "don't blame Cole. He was doing what he thought was right for his sick grandmother. Marrying me was what he thought he had to do to make her happy."

The taxi driver turned his head slightly as if he was trying to hear her mother's reply.

Frankly, Anna didn't care anymore. The whole world already knew what a fool she'd been.

The whole world already knew that she'd fallen in love with a man who didn't love her back.

"I'm not making excuses for him," she said. "What I'm finally doing is telling the truth."

It would be so easy to fall into her mother's comforting arms, to let her sisters rally around her, to let them all crucify the man she'd married. So easy.

And so false.

"I screwed up, Mom. And I'll survive."

Somehow, some way, she'd figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on with her life. One day people would stop feeling sorry for her. One day she'd find another man to date, to marry, to love. And one day she'd go to bed and realize she hadn't thought about Cole for minutes. Hours even.

But just then, just when she thought she was finally telling herself the truth, she made the mistake of looking in the rear-view mirror.

"Promise me that you'll remember, sweetheart. No matter what happens. Promise you won't forget that I love you."

Oh God, she hadn't forgotten. How could she, when his declarations of love were still ringing in her ears, when she could still feel the sweetness of his touch all over the surface of her body?

But accepting Cole's love wasn't about memories.

It was about trust.

And trust was something she was all out of.

* * *

Cole wanted to knock the teeth out of every single person who stared at them as he and Anna walked through the airport. After she'd insisted on taking a cab, rather than driving with him to the airport, he'd thought she was going to try to outrun him once they got inside. But when he caught up to her at the security checkpoint, she silently waited for him to put his shoes back on and they walked to the gate together. She didn't look mad.

She didn't look like she was going to cry.

She just plain didn't look like she cared about anything either way.

That was the worst of all, Cole realized as he walked through the airport beside her: Her glow was gone.

And it was his fault.

He wanted to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness. He wanted to hold her still in front of him until she agreed to listen to him. He wanted to kiss her until she believed that he loved her.