I'd Lie

A few weeks later, Patrice is driving to New York City, desperately trying to make me feel better by taking me 'home.' Last night, I broke up with Wes because I didn't feel right being in love with someone else and dating him at the same time. Although we worked everything out scarily well, it didn't erase the fact that he proposed to me minutes before I broke up with him. Seeing the ring made everything harder to go through with but I knew I wasn't being fair with him. Wes obviously saw our relationship as something long term while I saw him as nothing more than a friend; this relationship was doomed from the start mainly because I was the one preventing it from going anywhere. Deep down, I knew I probably broke Wes' heart although he wouldn't come straight out and admit it.

"I've known for awhile that your heart belonged to someone else, I just thought that we could make this work. I really wanted it to work," Wes told me gently. I turned away so he couldn't see the tears that threatened to fall.

"It just doesn't seem fair to you at all. You should be yelling at me, calling me a slut, anything but this," I sniffed, letting him wrap his arms around me comfortingly.

"I couldn't ever do anything like that. Deep down I knew that this wasn't ever really going to work out, I just got the bad end of everything. I know you never intentionally meant to hurt me and I'm pretty sure me asking you to marry me came as a bit of a shock. Honestly, I knew you'd most likely say no but I wanted to try,"

"I love you,"

"But not the same way I love you,"

"We can make this work," I whispered, wiping a few stray tears from my face.

"Cameron, I don't want to make you think that you have to be with me,"

"You're not, I know I should be with you,"

"You're only saying that because of what happened just now, it would be different if I didn't just give you a ring. Admit it Cammie, I know you're in love with Patrice, you can't deny it. Every time I see you talk to him or he looks at you, or when his name's even mentioned, you're whole face lights up. I'm just getting in the way of you two and I understand that now. I won't force you to be with me and I won't stand in the way of you and him,"

"How can you be so calm about this?" I asked.

"Because I know you can't fight love. Keep the ring and don't argue with me about it. I want you to have it, consider it a gift from a friend,"

"Thank you," was all I managed to choke out. I don't argue with Wes because it was a battle I knew I was going to lose.

"Now what are you still doing here? Go. Go back to him because I know that's where you really want to be. I hope everything works out for the best and good luck," Wes told me, before gently pushing me out the door.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Wes?" Patrice asked. "I thought you two were going to work out,"

"We were," I sniffed. "That's what made everything so hard. He was in love with me,"

"What exactly happened?"

"He proposed to me,"

"He proposed to you?" Patrice asked, incredulously, looking at the ring hanging on my neck by a delicate silver chain. "If you said yes, shouldn't you be happy?"

"That's the thing!" I cried, tears threatening to fall. "I said no because I'm..."

"You're what?"

"I'm in love with someone else and I just couldn't let that relationship get any further," I said softly, tears falling. "He wanted me to keep the ring,"

An awkward silence fell over the two of us and Patrice pulled out his cell phone to make reservations at a hotel and get Broadway tickets for the both of us. He had a game in Philadelphia in two days and instead of preparing for it, he called Coach Julien and took two 'personal' days off to help me pull myself together. Five minutes later, Patrice is talking to me animatedly, doing his best to cheer me up with some random jokes he's picked up while I do my best to fake a smile, hoping he doesn't see through it. Unfortunately we're driving in broad daylight and he knows me well enough to see through my facade. He falls silent and switches on the radio knowing that what he can't help me with, music can.

"You can change the station if you want," he told me as one of his favorite songs came on.

"It's fine. You like this song don't you?" I asked, looking over at him. He looks shocked that I knew but smiled and continued to drive. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, trying to make up for the sleep I lost last night from crying. I don't have my eyes open but I can tell Patrice glanced over at me before lacing his fingers with mine, resting our hands on the center console of the car.

"Everything's going to be alright," he told me soothingly. "It's all got to get better from here, I promise,"

"I really hope so," I replied, listening to the lyrics of the song. His thumb traced patters on the back of my hand and I felt better already. Within minutes I was able to drift off into a comfortable sleep.