My hand flew instinctively to cover my mouth. "What?" I breathed.

Max nodded sadly. "She's dead. He found out right after he turned eighteen...I -- I shouldn't really be telling you this. Not that I don't trust you or anything, it's just some personal stuff that Michael doesn't like to talk about." Max gave me a small smile. "I just thought I'd let you know, so you don't get wrapped up in some fling you don't really want a part of."

I nodded numbly, still processing what Max had told me. Oh, god. Poor Michael. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like, looking forward to something your entire life and then finding out that it slipped through your fingers without your even knowing.

"Okay, well, goodnight." Max left the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Raising my eyes to the ceiling, I lay down on the bed and shut my eyes. This whole...ordeal was getting more and more complicated. Michael knew that I had a soulmate, a living, breathing man who I was destined for; and yet he still pursued me. Why? Because I was a good fuck?

I rolled over on my side and grabbed my duffel bag from the floor, fishing my hand in the smallest pocket. Grasping the small object, I pulled out my ring and slid it back into place on my finger, twirling it absentmindedly. Something had made me take it off before the plane landed this morning. Max and Liz were so happy and in love...and then there was Adam and I. Adam, who loves me more than anything, and me, who cringes at the thought of him.

***

I kissed Liz quickly on the cheek, and pulled her into a tight hug. "You look amazing," I told her proudly.

"Thanks," she grabbed my hands excitedly and we giggled. Looking past my shoulder, she gave me a small nudge. "Get out there!"

"Okay!" I hugged her once more and tiptoed out into the entryway, searching the room for Michael. I hadn't seen him all day; I'd been too busy helping Liz get ready. Suddenly a hand reached out and brushed down my arm.

"Maria?" I turned and came face to face with Michael. I took a quick step back, not wanting to get too close. I flushed as his gaze moved from my face and down my body, lingering at the curves.

"Yeah, let's go." I grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly into line. His mouth moved as if to say something, but he remained silent and stood straight next to me in the doorway. An usher motioned discreetly for us to begin the procession, and we began our walk down the aisle, arm in arm.

I hardly noticed when Liz arrived. All I could concentrate on was -- yep, you guessed it -- Michael. He was staring at me. And he was being pretty obvious about it. He didn't wink, or mouth any words to me...but his eyes said enough. It was as if he was trying to communicate with me with only a set jaw and lingering eyes. What was he saying? Was it...an invitation?

I jerked back to reality just in time, as Max and Liz were pronounced man and wife, soulmates eternally. I don't remember much after their kiss, except that somehow I ended up dancing in Michael's arms again.

"Hello?"

"What?" I looked up quickly. Michael was giving me a funny look. I guess I'd been off in dreamland yet again, a place I seem to go often these days.

"I said, what did you think of the wedding."

"Oh," I shrugged. "Um...it was nice." I'd probably have a better answer if I hadn't been so distracted by you, Mr. Smarmy Ass.

He smirked, suddenly dipping me backwards for a moment. I gasped lightly and clung to his arm as I returned to an upright position.

"You have no idea, do you?"

I frowned. "Of course I do. It was a gorgeous wedding, and Max and Liz looked perfect together."

"Max and Liz always look perfect," he muttered, somewhat bitterly. I turned my head to look at them, dancing together in the middle of the room. Soft light shone on their features from the tall ceiling, and the looks on their faces were identical -- genuine bliss. It was beautiful.

It nearly broke my heart.

I kept my gaze on the newlyweds, a million thoughts swarming into my head at once -- and none of them good. I'm going to be miserable for the rest of my life.

Slowly, Max turned his head and locked eyes with me. I immediately felt guilty. Wasn't this exactly what he'd gone to so much trouble to warn me against? I ducked my head, looking down at Michael's feet, and hoped that my sudden blush wasn't too noticeable.

Then, suddenly, I began to feel defiant. Who was Max to tell me what to do? Liz? Adam? This is my life, and I fully intend to lead it myself.

I looked back up at Michael, and was startled under his intense gaze. I felt my pulse quicken and a feeling I can't quite describe rose from the pit of my stomach. Our eyes never leaving each other, we slowly moved together from the dance floor, communicating in perfect harmony without ever saying a word.

*******

We didn't speak until we reached an empty hallway just off of the ballroom. Actually, we still didn't speak there, either. I rested my hands lightly on Michael's shoulders, shivering slightly as he ran his hands down to the curve of my waist. I tilted my head slightly and closed my eyes, gently pressing my lips again Michael's.

He pulled me closer, sliding one hand up my back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moaned gently into his mouth. Then I pulled away.

"Maria..." he breathed, going for my lips again, but I turned my head away.

I shook my head. "No," I said softly.

His eyes clouded with confusion, mine with tears. "What?"

"I can't do this to him," I forced through gritted teeth. I leaned my head against the wall and looked away, not wanting him to see my tears. My weakness. "He loves me."

"I..." Michael faltered, and I looked up at him through my lashes. His face was unreadable -- it's been that way ever since I met him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. We stood like that for what felt like hours, thought it was most likely only a few minutes. Finally I gathered myself, no longer using the wall for support. "I have to go," I said, my eyes downcast.

"Maria." His voice stopped me. This was hurting him.

"What." I was tired, and I was sick of this. Sick of my life, of Michael, of Adam, of Liz, of Max. All I wanted right now was to be home in my bed, curled up all alone and away from the rest of the world.

Michael didn't say anything, just stared into my eyes, and I sighed. "Bye," I whispered, trailing back into the ballroom.

***

I caught a ride back to Max and Liz's apartment with Roger and Ashley, their friends from the wedding. It felt strange being alone in their apartment, especially since nothing was even mine. As quickly as I could, I changed into my pajamas and fell into bed, ready for a long, hopefully dreamless sleep that would cleanse my mind of all the drama I was suddenly experiencing.

I would have succeeded, too, if I hadn't heard the door creak open just before falling into the subconscious.

I clutched the covers beneath my chin, my heart pounding. Hadn't I remembered to lock the door? My mind furiously replayed the evening, and I was almost positive I had. Burying my head beneath the sheets, I took shallow breaths, praying that whoever it was wouldn't notice I was in the apartment.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the thin sliver of light from the hallway increased, a figure appearing in the doorway. I lay perfectly still, barely breathing.

I think my heart stopped when a weight gently dropped onto the mattress. I also think I screamed, though I don't really remember. All I really know is that the weight was suddenly gone, and I heard a dull thud against the wall beside the bed.

I looked up, wild-eyed, and saw it was Michael.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" I screeched, sitting straight up. "Trying to give me a heart attack!?"

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his arm. Then he seemed to process my outburst. "No! I was...checking on you."

"Checking on me?" I snorted. "Get real! You snuck in here because you wanted to lay me!" My hand quickly flew to my mouth. Whoops. I wouldn't want to give him any ideas.

"Gee, thanks," he bit back sarcastically. "Glad to know you think so highly of my character."

"You haven't exactly been showing me your stellar character," I spat. "So far you've -- you've been an annoying bastard who won't leave me alone and -"

"You wanted it!" he exclaimed. "I didn't force anything on you! I -"

"You don't know what I want, Michael," I said, my voice low with anger. "I want a normal, happy life. And I want one completely free of you."

Michael shook his head. "Maria, I -"

"Stop it!" I cried. "Stop doing this to me. Do you understand how hard it is?" I whispered, my eyes suddenly shiny with tears. "No, of course you don't," I answered myself bitterly. "You don't have a soulmate to cheat on."

I immediately regretted the words as soon as they flew out of my mouth. Michael looked like I'd punched him in the stomach. Silence hung heavy in the small room.

"They told you," he whispered disbelievingly. He turned, and slammed his fist against the wall. "Damn it!"

"Please, just leave," I whimpered. Michael didn't move, his hands clenched at his sides. "Go!" I demanded.

He sighed, and rubbed his forehead defeatedly. He paused right outside the door. "This isn't over."

"This is very over," I said, and hopped out of bed, slamming the door in his face.

I crawled back beneath the sheets, my mind reeling at what had just passed. My mind told me that I should be proud of myself, for turning him away, for ending whatever freaky thing had been happening between us. But my heart wanted to cry.

*******

Adam kissed the top of my head as he brushed past, a heavy cardboard box loaded in his arms. I was moving out of the small home I'd shared with my mother for nineteen years, and into Adam's roomy apartment. My father died when I was young. Luckily my mom had been working when Michael had dropped by a few months ago. I wasn't the most excited girl in the world, but Adam and Mom didn't seem to question my lack of interest in moving; I've always hated cleaning and organizing, which were two major elements of what I've come to call The Big Move.

My mother came to stand beside me, and we watched Adam through the open door as he cheerfully loaded yet another box into his black Ford Explorer. I glanced sideways at her, and could see a faint mist in her eyes. She sighed. "He's a wonderful man," she said wisely. "You're lucky to have him." She gave me a wink, and then left down the hallway, presumably to my bedroom to get another box.

I stared after her for a while. "I know," I said softly.

"You know what?" Adam's hands circled my waist and he spun me around to face him, pulling me tight against his body.

"Nothing," I said nonchalantly. I wrestled out of his grip and bent down, handing him another box. "Here you go."

Adam seemed a bit confused, but he must have reassured himself that I simply didn't want to play because my mom was in the house. He turned and made another trip down to the car.

I sighed and retraced my mother's footsteps, passing her as I went down the hall, coming to stop in the doorway to my old bedroom. Clean, untouched spots of carpet, once hidden beneath my dresser and nightstand, stood in stark contrast to the faded blue of the rest of the floor. A wave of nostalgia hit me as I gazed around the nearly-empty room.

I remember lying on that bed, daydreaming about the day I'd meet my soulmate. It would be romantic; he'd sweep me off of my feet and whisper romantic things into my ear. We'd make love every night. And I'd never, ever have any doubts.

I was a silly child.

Adam suddenly appeared behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, and I jumped away quickly. "You scared me," I supplied weakly. He smiled.

"Sorry."

"That's okay." We fell silent, gazing around the little room that seemed so much bigger now that almost all of its contents were gone.

"Are you sad?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "A little, I guess. I spent my whole life in here."

Adam nodded. "Well, you like my apartment. And we'll be together." He squeezed my hand briefly, and picked up another box, leaving me still in the doorway.

Together. I took a deep breath and tore my gaze from the room. That was the past, and I was moving onto my future. Letting go of this old room could be the first step in letting go of everything else that held me back, and one thing most of all, even though he'd never even been in it - Michael.

***

I turned towards the wall, my back to Adam. We'd just had sex, and he was already asleep. I couldn't blame him; if I hadn't had other pressing issues on my mind, I'd have fallen asleep during the act.

That's unfair of me to say. Honestly, Adam isn't bad in bed at all. Tonight it was my fault. I was feeling disoriented and out-of-it, and hadn't been able to muster up much of the passion I can usually fake so well. Adam didn't comment on it, though, and simply fell asleep, his arm heavy across my waist.

I held up my hand in front of my eyes, sliding my ring around on my finger. I don't think I've ever been in a worse situation than this. All day and all night I'd seen visions of Michael's face. Michael's face as he laughed at a joke, Michael's face in the throes of passion, Michael's face as he watched me leave that morning. I'd seen him out on the streets of Roswell, only to morph into another young man of similar height and stature. Michael was imprinted on my brain.

And I can't figure out why. I'm not in love with him - I can't be. I barely know him. He got me worked up, he was amazing in bed, but that's not enough for something as strong as love. It was enough for infatuation, though. Am I infatuated with Michael?

I'll have to look up "infatuation" and clear that up.

There's something going on between us, I know that much. I don't want there to be, but I feel something for him. If only Adam wasn't around...then everything would be okay...

Wait! What am I thinking? I'm wishing death on poor Adam? My eyes began to water. Adam deserves someone better than me; someone much, much better than me. Someone who doesn't think thoughts of being with another man and unconsciously plot his own demise.

I pulled off the covers, gently removing Adam's arm from my body. Sliding my feet into my slippers, I quietly padded towards the living room, stopping when I passed the bathroom. I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror. Like I said, I'm sort of pretty...but it was as if the life in me had gone out. My eyes were dull and when I smiled at myself, not even the most gullible person on earth would mistake it for true happiness. My gaze was slowly drawn towards the bathtub, where a pink razor lay unused in the soapdish.

I thought for a moment, then - no way, things weren't that bad. A chill swept over me. I've never had thoughts like that before, and now that the idea had flashed through my mind, I was scared.

Of myself.

"Maria?" Shit. Somehow I'd woken Adam up. I saw him emerge from the bedroom, scratching his head, his eyes heavy with sleep. "What are you doing?" he yawned, ambling towards me.

"Nothing," I told him. "Just had to go to the bathroom, that's all."

Adam nodded, and I don't think he even really heard me. "Okay...g'night." He turned and fumbled his way back to bed. He didn't question me when I followed him, not even turning on the bathroom light.

***

The door banged open and shut, and Adam came in through the doorway. "Good evening, milady," he greeted me, dropping his jacket over a chair. I waved at him with my spoon from my position on the sofa, a tub of ice cream cradled in my lap. Nothing like spending your day with Jerry Springer and some Edy's.

He leant down to kiss me, and slipped his tongue into my mouth, licking the insides clean of any leftover ice cream. I growled at him, mocking anger. "That was my ice cream, buddy."

Adam grinned. "Sorry."

"Hmph." I redirected my interest back to the television. In all honesty, I didn't even know what was on, but it was better than pretending to be coy with Adam. He stood there for a few moments, as if anticipating me to say more, and sat down when I didn't.

"Maria, can we talk?"

"Mm hmm," I mumbled, slurping down more ice cream. "'Bout what?"

Adam looked down at his hands. "Us, I guess." He sighed. "Maria, I get the feeling you're not happy."

No, really. I looked at him sideways. "I'm happy."

"No, Maria, you're not," he said gently. "You're nineteen years old. You're supposed to go out and have fun, but...you never go anywhere with me. You just lay around the house all day. And lately you haven't been very...well, responsive." By the look on his face, I knew he was talking about sex.

"I haven't been feeling too well, okay?" I sighed, pushing myself up off of the couch.

Adam reached out and gently took hold of my wrist. "Maria, there's something making you act this way. I want to know what it is. I need to know. I'm practically your husband, for God's sake."

I jerked my arm away. "I told you. I haven't been feeling well lately."

"There's something else. That's not it." He looked at me pleadingly, and it was all I could do not to scream.

"Do you know what your problem is, Adam?" I said through gritted teeth. "You don't know me. You know yourself, and you think that's enough. Well, guess what. It's not." I dropped my ice cream onto the coffee table, and grabbed my suede jacket from the same chair that Adam had discarded his on. "I'm taking a walk," I announced angrily, and slammed the door on my way out.

I took the stairs down to the lobby, the sound of my footsteps echoing in my ears. I just needed to get away. I needed to see my mom.

*******

My feet pounded heavily on the sidewalk. The sun was just about to set, and the sky was tinted in shades of purple and orange. Dusk is just about the best thing about living in Roswell. Maybe it's the only good thing about living in Roswell.

I slowed down as I reached my old house, panting slightly. I had jogged over. Maybe I should take up jogging regularly -- it was good for getting out my frustrations. As I grew nearer, a tall, dark figure appeared from the opposite corner. My eyes widened as he -- it had to be a man -- strode down the sidewalk, turning up my old driveway.

I watched with bated breath as he turned again and walked right past the front door, over to the side of the house. A sliver of moonlight shone on his features and I drew in a quick breath as I saw who it was.

Michael. He was looking for me -- and not even being up-front about it. He was trying to find my bedroom.

I furrowed my brow, and quietly made my way to the corner of the house. I took a deep breath and crept up silently behind him. He was gazing through the window of what used to be my bedroom, lines of confusion creasing his face.

"I don't live here anymore."

He spun around, his eyes wild. They softened when he saw who it was. We stared at each other for one long, silent moment; the air feeling as though it could shatter around us at any moment. "Maria..."

"Michael."

"I couldn't stay away," he whispered, gazing into my eyes. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Why?" I breathed, taking a step closer. My mind told me it was wrong...but my body had other ideas. It was like a magnetic force drawing me to him.

"Why?" he repeated, lifting his hands to rest gently on my hips as I drew nearer.

I stepped away, and he moved closer. It was like we were dancing. I take a step back, he takes a step forward, I move to the side, he moves with me, never moving his hands from my waist. It was just a physical manifestation of how we've been acting since that night at the Tumbleweed.

"Because..." His breath was hot against my cheek, and I shivered slightly. I looked at him, waiting for him to continue, but that was all he said. I turned my head slightly, and he nuzzled the juncture of my neck and chin, kissing it softly. I sighed.

"Michael...no." I moved away, and placed my hands on his chest in an attempt to keep distance. Whoops. Wrong move. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my fingers, the heat of his skin. My first instinct was to damn it all to hell, press him up againt the siding, and have my way with him. Luckily, I'm not a man, and thus I listened to my brain rather than my libido.

"Why not?" He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me up close. His lips were mere inches from mine. A tiny tilt of the head, a few inches closer...but I forced myself to look down. At my hands.

The starlight captured my ring, glinting at me like an evil beacon.

I broke down. Everything I've been holding inside of me, all the regrets and pain and doubts, flowed out through tears and garbled words. "It's so hard," I sobbed, burying my face in his chest. "It's too hard."

"I know," he whispered into my hair.

"But you don't understand..."

"I don't need to." Michael lowered his head, kissing the corner of my lips, then moving closer to a full-on kiss. I backed up quickly and held up my hand.

"We're engaged."

Michael stared at the ring, that simple band of gold that bonded me to a life I didn't want, and then shrugged. He shrugged. If I hadn't been frustrated with my life before, I sure as hell was now.

I gaped at him. "That's all you can say...?" I mocked his shrug. Talk about switching moods in the blink of an eye.

"Yes."

My mouth fell open. "Wh...how...come on!"

He grabbed my hand and played with the ring, twirling it around on my finger and studying the central diamond. "It's nice," he observed.

"Yes, it is," I mumbled, still completely confused as to what was going on. I brushed a stray tear from my cheek.

"But it doesn't matter," he said huskily, sliding it off of my hand as he pulled me against his body and lowered his lips to mine.

"It...does..." I sighed into his mouth, leaning my full weight into his chest. Screw engagement rings...screw engagements. I hiked my leg up around his waist and he responded immediately, pulling me up so that I straddled his waist. Moments later we fell with a soft thump to the dewy grass.

I didn't get home until very late. I slept on the couch.

*******

"Maria, where's your ring?"

I glanced up from my position over the sink, pausing mid-chop. Things had been tense between Adam and I for the last two days, and I was mildly surprised to hear him speaking to me. I lowered my eyes to my hand. Shit.

I stared wide-eyed at my hand, and then at Adam. "I...I don't know."

His arms were crossed defensively across his chest. "You took it off."

I shook my head quickly. "No..."

"Goddammit!" he growled, slamming his fist on the counter. I watched him silently from the other side of the kitchenette, his chest heaving as he struggled to calm himself. I set down my knife gently, beside the carrots I'd been chopping for salad.

"Adam, I -"

"Maria, we're going to counseling," he blurted out.

I frowned. "What?"

"I think we need...we need counseling. We need help. Something is wrong here, and god help me, I don't know what. I just want this to work." He approached me slowly, his voice cracking slightly.

"I am not going to a shrink," I said quietly, turning back to my vegetables.

"Maria -"

"Adam." I spun around to face him, dropping the knife once again in the sink. "Listen to me. I don't want to go to counseling. I don't want to sit in front of some doctor who thinks he can understand the inner workings of my mind. I don't want to tell anyone my life's story, and I don't want to tell anyone my secrets."

He clasped my hands gently. "Maria, you shouldn't have secrets from me," he said softly.

I pulled away. "I do. Live with it, or live without me, 'cause honest to god, Adam, I'm sick of this."

"Sick of what?" Adam exclaimed. "If anyone should be sick of this, it's me! You won't talk to me, you hardly leave the house, you're completely miserable -"

"You know what? I -"

"Maria, I love you." His quiet words stopped me. His eyes were big and pleading, his voice sincere. I could feel my lower lip tremble, tears filling my eyes, my resolve giving way. I didn't say anything.

"Maria, tell me why you took off your ring," he pressed gently. A solitary tear dripped down my cheek.

"I didn't," I managed to choke out.

"Maria..." He raised his hand to cup my cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb.

"I didn't take it off," I insisted, turning away. "I don't know what happened."

Adam stopped stroking my cheek, and turned me to face him straight in the eye. "You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying!" I exclaimed, brushing my eyes quickly with my hand. "Can't you just trust me?"

"Of course I do," he said.

"No, you don't," I sighed. "You don't trust me, Adam, and that's why we're having problems." I tried to ignore the fact that I've been having somewhat of an affair with another man as an influence on our deteriorating relationship.

"I trust you!" he insisted. "I do. But lately all I've been feeling from you is -- I don't know, regret, or something."

I shrugged helplessly, and turned back to the sink. "I'll look for it later, okay?" Adam stood there for a bit longer, staring at me, before finally answering me.

"Okay." My face fell at the defeated tone in his voice, though he couldn't see it.

I watched him leave out of the corner of my eye. "I'm sorry, Adam," I whispered.

***

"I've come to a decision."

Adam looked up at me from the magazine he was reading. "And that is...?"

"We need some time apart," I said firmly. Adam lifted one eyebrow, very much in the same manner that I do.

"Time...apart?"

"Yes. I'm going down to Marathon for a week. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Maria, honey..." he seemed at a loss for words. I didn't give him the chance to protest.

"Max and Liz are already expecting me. It'll be good for us, okay? Trust me. We've been in each other's faces twenty-four-seven ever since I moved in here, and it's not healthy. It will be fine."

Adam sighed. "Fine. If that's what you want, if that's what you think will fix things between us, fine."

I fought vainly to keep a smile from spreading across my face. "Thank you," I said softly, kissing him on the cheek. "For being so understanding."

Adam nodded, not looking me in the eye. "Yeah," he muttered.

"So, I'm just gonna go to bed now," I said, filling the awkward space that hung between us.

"Okay."

"G'night." I gave him a little wave before turning and entering our bedroom.

Later, as I slipped beneath the covers that we share, I closed my eyes and pictured Michael.

I'd be seeing him soon enough.