It isn't fair.

It's all Liz's fault, really. If her stupid soulmate hadn't had to be stupid Max, who's stupid best friend had had to be Michael, then I wouldn't even be in this stupid situation.

But it isn't her fault, really, I admitted to myself. I just need somewhere to displace the frustration for a while.

What is wrong with me? I don't love my soulmate? I'm a freak, or something. And what about Michael? I mean, it's not that likely that there's two of us weirdos out there with no true mate...he must have used me for sex. I mean, that's what I used him for.

It's not like I'm in love with him or something pathetic like that.

I sighed, and buried my face into my pillow. I was on the couch, watching an old Laverne and Shirley rerun. I have always imagined Liz and I to one day be like Laverne and Shirley. I'd be Laverne, of course, the loud, crazy one who ran around wearing the letter M on my shirt every day. And Liz would be Shirley, a bit quieter, a bit more your average Joe.

Unfortunately, life isn't like an episode of Laverne and Shirley, where all the problems are solved in half an hour -- commercials included -- and everybody ends up happy.

The phone rang, and I stretched my arm out lazily to grab it. "Hello?"

"Ria, it's me."

I hate the nickname Ria. "Hey, Adam."

"You feeling better?" I'd told him I was sick last night, so I could go out with Michael without him knowing. There wasn't really a reason, even -- he wouldn't care if I was just going out with some old friend.

Michael wasn't exactly what I could call a "friend" anymore, though.

"Oh yeah, a ton. I think it was just stress or something."

He laughed. "What do you have to be stressed out about?"

Well, for one, I just had sex with a guy who's not my soulmate. But somehow I don't think Adam would like to hear that.

"Y'know, work, and stuff," I explained. Oh, good one, Maria. Cause working as a waitress in a tourist-trap diner is so damn stressful.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, whatever the cause. Feel up to going out for lunch today?"

No. "Sure. What time?"

"I'll come get you at noon."

"Okay. See you then."

"See you. I love you." I hung up the phone quickly so I didn't have to return the sentiment.

***

"So last night I was watching this movie on tv, right?" Adam chuckled, the punchline of his story already formed in his mind. "And the guy's like..."

I tuned him out, nodding every now and then when it seemed appropriate. I couldn't get my mind off of other things. Those other things being, namely, Michael Guerin. I wondered what he'd done after I'd left. Would he still be there? Or had he gone back to his soulmate, wherever she was?

That was the weirdest thing about all of this. Why would someone so eagerly turn their back on their soulmate...and have an affair? Not that you could really call what we'd done an affair, since I'd ended it after one night, and all.

I drifted back to reality, and noticed that Adam was looking at me funny. "What?"

"Maria, you haven't listened to a word I said."

"Yes I have," I insisted. "You were watching a movie."

Adam sighed, running a hand through his short blonde hair. "Maria, you've been distant ever since I picked you up. Is something wrong?" He took my hand in his across the table. "I'll help you work it out, whatever it is."

Would Michael have realized if I'd been distant with him? Would he be as kind and loving and supportive as Adam?

Well, it didn't matter, because Michael was my past. No, not even. He was just a tiny blip in the radar of life.

"I...I guess I'm still feeling kind of sick," I fibbed. The way things were going, I'd never have another night's sleep due to guilt gnawing away at my mind. Had I said one truthful sentence to anyone in the past twenty-four hours?

Michael. I'd told him that I wanted to be a singer. Now that I've thought about it...maybe it's what I've always wanted. I've always enjoyed performing. Before Liz started acting like she'd already gone through menopause, we used to go to karaoke night at the local pizza place nearly every week. Once I even got a standing ovation for my rendition of "My Heart Will Go On". That was during my Titanic phase.

Adam reached over the table and felt my forehead. "You don't feel hot," he mused. "But if you don't feel well, let's go. I'll take you home."

"Oh, no," I protested feebly. "It's okay. I'm just a little worn out. Look," I pointed to the waitor who was drawing closer with our matching plates of chicken tortillas. "It's too late, anyway. I feel fine."

Adam sighed. "Okay. If you're sure. But if you suddenly feel the need to leave, you just tell me."

I smiled at him appreciatively and nodded. I was already feeling the sudden need to leave...the need to just get away from him, this man who I was stuck with for the rest of my life.

*******

Adam gave me a long, lingering kiss as we stood in front of my door. "I made reservations for us to go to dinner tomorrow night," he said softly. "I'll come get you at six?"

I bit my lip. "Okay." It kind of bothered me that he'd just make reservations without discussing it with me first, but it wasn't that big of a deal. He smiled.

"Okay. Goodnight." He kissed me once more, and with a wave, left.

I rubbed my bottom lip absentmindedly with my index finger. Kisses from Adam were just kisses -- two pairs of lips rubbing together, nothing special about that. But kisses from Michael...now that was a whole other story entirely.

I let out a sigh and entered the living room, laying down on the couch. I clicked on the tv and flipped through, settling on a Saturday Night Live commercial. When I was younger, I'd wanted to be on SNL. I'd wanted to be up there on stage with Chris Kattan and Cheri Oteri, making the audience laugh and brushing elbows with the celebrity guest stars. Maybe that was what I wanted to do.

I turned off the tv, a slightly sour expression on my face. I didn't need to see my dreams lived out right in front of me, mocking me, right now. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe I needed to just go for it -- and screw Adam if he didn't support me.

***

Day and night and day again passed quickly, until it was six o'clock the next day and Adam was at my door picking me up for dinner. He'd called and told me to be nicely dressed; we were going out somewhere fancy. I straightened my short red dress and pretended to giggle and blush when Adam made a grand gesture of leading me to his car.

I was genuinely surprised when he sprung it on me. I'd thought it was just another dinner, y'know? I'd thought it was just kooky Adam, wanting to spend a romantic evening with me.

I should have known. We were in yet another French restaurant, this one a bit fancier, but French nonetheless. Dinners in French restaurants always seem to end strangely.

I thought he'd dropped his napkin or something when he got down onto the floor, and I started hissing at him about how uncivilized it was to crawl around on the floor looking for a napkin in a public place, when he drew the dark blue velvet box out of his pocket. I froze mid-rant. He wasn't scouring the floor for a discarded piece of cloth...he was on one knee. The words seemed to come out of his mouth in slow motion. "Maria...will you...marry me?"

I covered my face with my hands, hiding his beaming face from my view. "Oh...God," I choked out. I peeked at him through my fingers, and he was still grinning. Some of the other diners in the restaurant were clapping, and a few waitors stood over to the side cheering along with them. Adam must have thought I was embarrassed since he held up his hands to quiet everyone and returned to his seat, holding out the open box across the table, urging me on.

I allowed myself to look at the ring, and my breath caught in my throat. It was gorgeous. Gold, woven in an intricate pattern around a central diamond. And damn, was that ever a big diamond. Even the queen of England would envy that rock.

I was trapped. Trapped by a handsome man who's in love with me, an expensive diamond ring, and a roomful of happy people...doensn't sound too bad, right? Guess again.

I closed my eyes briefly, and drew in a shuddering breath. "Yes," I sighed, fighting vainly to keep the resignation out of my voice. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Adam grinned even wider, if possible, and slipped the ring onto my left hand. He squeezed my hand encouragingly, and I gave him a weak smile, which I think he took as a shocked one. I stared at the ring on my hand.

And that's what I'm doing right now. Lying in bed, alone because I feigned fatigue, staring at this goddamned ring. The symbol of all that binds me to a life led in...well, not misery. And not pleasure.

Just somewhere in between.

***

I quietly closed the car door, making as little noise as possible. It was silly; I was in a public parking lot, it wasn't as if it mattered whether or not I made any noise. But every now and then I'd look behind me, just to make sure nobody saw me here.

I walked up to the front desk, and a tired-looking man in his mid-forties looked up from the book he was reading. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me what room Michael Guerin is in."

"I'm sorry, miss, we can't disclose that type of information." He smiled sympathetically.

"Oh..." I fidgeted with my purse. "Could you just tell me if he's still here?"

The man let out a small sigh, and typed quickly on his computer. "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Guerin checked out yesterday afternoon."

I gave him a smile. "Thank you."

I scolded myself silently as I strode back out to the Jetta. What was I doing? Why did I go to see him? To rub it in his face that I was engaged now, that there was no way we could ever be together? To show him that there were things like diamond rings, and devotion, that Adam could give me and he could not?

Diamond rings aren't what's important, though, I reminded myself. God, I wish they were. What's important is the way I feel when I'm with Michael. The way that we could argue over anything, the way his kisses taste, the way he truly cares about the things deep inside of me, not just the surface. Not just whether or not I'm sick -- he cares about my soul.

I shook my head, starting the car. So he asked me a couple of questions about my future -- does that really mean that he understands me in a way Adam never could? No. It doesn't. It was just a mild interest. A ruse he used to make me think he didn't just want me for sex.

Forget about him, I told myself firmly. You'll never do any good thinking about him for the rest of your life. Forget.

*******

The next day I got a call from Liz. I was shocked; she'd barely kept in touch ever since leaving. She and Max were getting married in one week. She wanted me to be her Maid of Honor.

I told her yes, of course, I'll be there, see you soon. She didn't ask about my life. She didn't ask if I'd gotten my soulmate yet, how I was doing, nothing. I don't think I like Liz so much anymore.

I called Adam and told him the news. "...So I'm going down to Marathon two days before, okay?"

Adam made a sound of disappointment. "Oh, Ria, I can't go with you," he said sadly. "I've got a major paper due for my lit class and...I'm sorry, baby." He's started to call me "baby" along with "Ria". There's two nicknames I can't stand.

"Oh." I feigned disappointment. "Alright then. I'll be okay, don't you worry about it. Look, I gotta go finish the laundry, 'kay? See ya."

I hung up the phone and let out my breath in a whoosh. It was a stroke of luck that Adam couldn't come with me -- I'd been planning on telling him that there wasn't enough room at Max and Liz's place for him. Which could be true -- I didn't even bother telling Liz about Adam.

I looked out the kitchen window and paused. What if I saw Michael there?

***

Four days later...

"Cute apartment," I said as Liz unlocked the door and let me inside. She had picked me up from the airport a few hours earlier, and I had been surprised when she showed up alone.

"Thanks," she murmured, shutting the door. "Max!"

Max quickly appeared from a room down the hall. "Hey, baby," he said softly, kissing Liz. I almost thought they'd forgotten about me until finally Max dragged his lips away and muttered a brief, "Hey, Maria."

Only five minutes in Marathon, and already I was regretting ever coming.

"C'mon, Maria, I'll show you to your room." Liz smiled and took my bag, leading me to the guestroom. It was bright and airy, with Texas sun shining in through the window.

"This is really nice, Liz," I gushed. "Thanks for letting me stay with you guys."

Liz waved her hand, as if to say, "aw, shucks". "It's nothing."

I shrugged. "Well, thanks all the same."

We both fell into an uncomfortable silence. "So..."

"Um, so you don't have your soulmate yet?" she chirped quickly.

I froze. "Um...sort of."

Liz tilted her head to the side. "Sort of?"

"Um, yeah." I quickly clasped my hands behind my back. Liz hadn't noticed my engagement ring, and I didn't feel like reliving the proposal for her right that moment.

Her eyes widened. "Maria! Why didn't you tell me? When?"

"Um...three weeks ago, actually," I lied. So it had been several months. Who's counting?

"Wow," Liz breathed. "That's right before your birthday, huh."

I nodded. "Yup." I glanced around the little room. "Um, Liz, I'm sort of tired..."

"Oh!" She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, of course. I'm sorry. I'll wake you for dinner?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks."

"Sure." I smiled at Liz as she left the room, closing the door gently behind her. As soon as she was gone, I flopped back down on the bed.

When had my life changed so much?

***

Liz knocked quietly on the guestroom door, and I opened it, twirling around in my bridesmaid dress. "Oh, Maria!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "It's gorgeous! I told you you'd love it." I grinned. It was the day before the wedding, a bit late to be having rehearsal if you ask me, but whatever. Of course she just assumed that I loved the dress...which I do, but that's besides the point.

"Yup...I should have never doubted you, Liz," I agreed, admiring myself in the mirror once more. It was a beautiful dress - strapless, shimmery light green fabric. Adam would absolutely die if he saw me in it.

I wonder how Michael would react.

"Okay, well, we've got the rehearsal in half an hour, so drag yourself away," she mused, checking her own hair in the mirror. Yes, my queen, I thought sarcastically.

"Alright, alright," I said, gently pushing her out of the room. "Give me ten minutes."

"Five."

"Seven." I shut the door. No noise came from the hallway, so I assumed she'd agreed with me.

I unzipped the back of the dress, letting it fall to the floor, and began to redress in the jeans and red top I'd been wearing earlier. I pulled my hair out of it's messy bun, letting the blonde strands fall around my shoulders. Suddenly I thought of Michael. Would I see him there? He was one of Max's good friends. Oh God. Maybe I could tell Liz I'd come down with a sudden case of food poisoning...

Get a grip, DeLuca. You told him you weren't interested. And I'm not. I have no interest in Michael Guerin whatsoever, not friendly, not sexual.

I put on a touch more lipgloss and briefly brushed my hair...just because I wanted to look nice, of course.

***

The church they'd chosen was big and sunny, exactly the type of place you'd expect someone like Liz to get married. It was perfect.

As I was gazing at the brilliantly colored stained glass windows, I felt Liz gently touch my arm. "Maria...here's your partner for the aisle." I spun around slowly.

And who could it be other than Michael?

I froze. Michael was giving me a bored look, as if he didn't want to be here, and most of all, didn't want to be paired up with me. "Oh, um, hi."

"This is Michael Guerin," she continued. "I don't know if you know each other..."

"Oh, we know each other," Michael interrupted, looking at the walls disinterestedly. I felt a hot blush creep up my neck.

"Yeah, we've met," I said quickly.

Liz glanced between the two of us, seeming to sense some sort of discomfort. "Okay, well, we're starting in a few minutes, so you better line up."

I nodded and headed for the back of the church. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Michael was following, and his close proximity startled me. Ever heard of personal space, buddy? I moved to the side, falling into pace beside him.

"So..." I began tentatively. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Where's Adam?"

I flinched at the harsh tone of his voice. "In Roswell."

"He didn't accompany you?"

"No."

Michael made a little noise in his throat, a sort of I-told-you-so, which I didn't understand, since I'd never really discussed Adam with him, other than who he was.

"He couldn't come, he was really busy with school and -"

"You don't have to make excuses for him," Michael interrupted me. I stopped dead in my tracks, staring after him as he continued to stride past the pews to the back of the church.

Jerk.

*******

"I could not believe it!" Max exclaimed, ending a story that had us all in stitches. Well, everyone except Michael, that is. He'd been nearly silent the entire evening. He, Max, Liz, and I were all out for a late dinner, along with Roger and Ashley, two friends of theirs. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to suppress the giggles. Who would've thought Max to be such an entertainer?

Luckily for me, I had ended up between Max and Roger, and not next to the King of Gloom. No, he was trapped between Liz and Ashley, who were squealing non-stop over the success of the rehearsal.

The band struck up a new song, and Liz froze mid-conversation. "Max, our song!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the hand. I watched as she led him out onto the dance floor. Roger and Ashley exchanged a look, and soon Happy Couple No. 2 was also out on the floor.

Leaving Michael and I alone.

"Wanna dance?"

"No," I said flatly.

"It's just a dance," he said, smirking. "What's the worst that could happen?"

You could seduce me into your bed again, and kiss me and hold me and make me love you. Whoa. Did I just think that?

Against my better judgement, I huffed, "Fine." Michael stood beside my chair and took my hand delicately, treating it as if it were made of porcelain. He led me to the far corner of the room, away from all the other dancers.

"You look nice tonight." His breath was hot against my cheek as he wrapped one arm around my waist, holding my other hand in his. We swayed gently in time to the music.

"Thank you." We danced in silence for a while. I gazed around the room slowly, letting my eyes rest on Max and Liz. Watching them, I saw Liz take a quick glance in my direction, and then whisper something into Max's ear. Max then lifted his head, searching the room, before landing on Michael and I yet again. I frowned slightly.

"What's the matter?"

I snapped my head back towards Michael in surprise. "Uh, nothing."

He raised one eyebrow, but nodded, seeming to accept my behavior as general weirdness.

"It's just, um, I thought I saw Liz and Max looking at me."

Michael nodded again. "Oh," he said casually, but I noticed that from that point on he was continually taking little peeks around the room, as if searching someone -- or rather, Max and Liz -- out.

***

We were still dancing, and I began to feel sleepy. Not realizing what I was doing, I dropped my head onto Michael's chest and closed my eyes. I felt his hands run down my arms, pulling them up around his neck, and then replace his hands around my waist, holding me a little tighter. I let out a little sigh. With Michael holding me up, I didn't have to worry about anything. I could just rest.

Suddenly I was pulled out of our warm embrace. "Maria...Maria..." I blinked foggily, to find Michael staring at me. His lips quirked as if he was trying to hide a grin. "Huh?"

"You almost fell asleep on me there," he smirked. "I think maybe it's past your bedtime."

I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, me too," I giggled, nearly drunk from my fatigue.

"Let's sit down," he suggested quietly, leading me back to our table. I nodded, my eyelids nearly drooping shut. There wasn't any jetlag, of course, since New Mexico and Texas are in the same time zone, but I was incredibly tired for some reason. I must've had a full day.

I rested my head on my arms and closed my eyes. Every now and then I took a peek at Michael, who seemed to be alternating between watching me and watching the dance floor.

"I've known that you're watching me for the past five minutes, Maria."

Whoops. Okay, maybe I wasn't as discreet as I thought. I sat upright, yawning into my hand. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry for." He looked out at the dancers again, and then looked back at me. "I'll take you home now."

I shook my head. "No, that's okay. I'll be fine until everyone's done."

"It wasn't a question." Michael rose from his seat, hardly noticing the glare that now decorated my face. I watched as he disappeared into the crowd for a moment, returning to my side and pulling me up by the arm. My skin tingled as he put his hand protectively on the small of my back. "Let's go."

I hmphed, but let him guide me out the door and into the parking lot. "Oh, no," I groaned. "Don't tell me we're riding that thing again."

He grinned. "Okay, I won't tell you."

I slapped at him lightly, and walked ahead quickly to the bike, pretending to wait impatiently. Michael threw me a smirk along with a helmet, helped me up behind him, and soon we were off.

*******

"Um..." My heart sank as we reached the apartment door. "I don't have a key."

"They keep one under the mat," Michael said, bending down and glancing around the hallway before slipping his hand beneath the mat at the foot of the door. I frowned as Michael unlocked the door and held it open for me to pass inside.

"Why do they have a mat outside of an apartment door?"

Michael shrugged. "You know Max and Liz. Anal retentive."

I laughed appreciatively, but we fell quickly fell silent. So, here we were, alone, in Max and Liz's apartment, for an undeterminable amount of time. I clasped my hands together. "Thirsty?"

Michael nodded, and I entered the kitchenette, grabbing us each a Coke from the fridge. I sat at the small counter across from him and pretended to be preoccupied with my soda.

"Get any gigs lately?"

I looked up, startled. "What? Gigs?"

Michael smirked. "Yeah. You know...singing?"

"Oh." I bit my lip. "No."

Michael shrugged. "Maybe you're just not looking in the right places."

"Um, actually, I haven't been looking."

This seemed to surprise Michael. "What do you mean? I thought you were going to try a singing career."

I shook my head quickly. "No, I never said that."

"You should," he said seriously.

"You've never even heard me sing," I protested.

"I don't need to," he said. "If it's what you want, then you should have it."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's not what I want," I muttered, playing with the tab of my soda can.

Michael paused thoughtfully. "I don't think you know what you want," he said lightly, though I knew from the tone of his voice that he wasn't kidding around.

I sighed. "You can't always get what you want," I said softly.

"That's not true," he said, lowering his voice, staring at me. I turned away uncomfortably from his gaze.

"I'm gonna watch tv," I muttered, sliding off of my seat and walking to the living room, removing my shoes as I went.

***

Ten or so minutes later, Michael joined me on the sofa, propping his feet beside mine on the coffee table. I glanced at him; his eyes were trained on the tv, which was turned to Nick At Nite. I have to admit, I'm a bit of an addict, and it doesn't help me any that they're showing Mary Tyler Moore every night this month.

But Mary Tyler Moore wasn't quite as much a distraction as Michael was. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body...and I wanted to be closer. I wanted to curl up in his lap, wrap my arms around him and just enjoy the feeling of being with him.

Instead, I nudged his foot.

A small smile played at my lips when he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He didn't speak, simply pretending to watch the tv again. Then he nudged my thigh with his knee.

I kicked him gently in the ankle. His elbow shot out into my side, and pretty soon we were in a full-out wrestling match.

"Stop!" I screeched, tears of laughter streaming down my cheeks. Michael hovered over me, panting slightly, resting above me on his arms.

"No, you..." Michael trailed off, and suddenly I was very, very aware of our position. I closed my eyes and parted my lips gently. I could feel his breath on my cheek...

"Maria?"

Michael abruptly rolled onto the floor, and my eyes popped open. Damn it! I scrambled up into a crouched position on the sofa. "Um, hey!" I motioned quickly to Michael, who was still lying prone on the floor, seemingly in shock.

Liz peered into the room. "Oh, Michael, hi. Why are you on the floor?"

"I uh, I dropped something," he offered lamely, pulling himself to his feet. "Uh..." He swallowed hard. "I'll be going now." I covered my mouth, stifling a giggle, as he brushed past her quickly.

Max stepped into the room. "Michael -"

"Hey Max, sorry, can't stay." Max watched helplessly before turning to Liz with a bewildered look. She shrugged.

I stood from the couch and stretched my arms above my head. I smiled. "It's getting late...I'm gonna head to bed." I gave the couple a little wave. "G'night."

***

"Maria?" Max knocked softly at the door, his voice quiet and unassuming.

"Come in," I called, setting down my hairbrush. I patted the end of the bed next to where I was seated cross-legged on the comforter. He sat beside me uneasily.

"Uh, Maria."

I frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Well -- maybe. I don't know. It has the potential to be," he articulated carefully. "It's about Michael."

My frown and concern grew deeper. "What about him?"

"Well, Liz and I, we sort of noticed how close you two were dancing at the restaurant. Not to say we were watching, exactly," he added hastily. I nodded slowly. I could see exactly where this was headed. They thought, somehow, that I was the move-maker, that I was tearing Michael away from his soulmate. Well, they had another thing coming.

"Max, maybe I should explain -"

"There's no need to explain, Maria," he stopped me, holding up his hand. "We also, uh, noticed that he was still hanging around after taking you home."

"I didn't want to be alone, that's all -"

"It's okay, Maria. This isn't your fault. It's just that Michael, well..." he trailed off. I nodded, urging him on.

"Michael what?"

Max sighed. "It's not really my business to be telling you this."

"Telling me what?" I scooted closer to Max, laying my hand on his shoulder. "Come on, you can tell me."

"I think that Michael may be hitting on you." Max said in a rush. Gee, like I didn't already know that. "Maria, his soulmate died when he was five."