Belle French had faced her share of shock and trauma in her relatively short life, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of the little blue box clutched tightly in Gary Stone's large hand.

She should want this. Any woman would want this. Gary was fantastic. He was smart, driven, successful. He was good looking in a conventional, if slightly boring way. He was exactly the type of guy you would want to bring home to your parents. The kind of guy you want to love, honor and protect you. But Belle didn't want any of that, and she especially didn't want Gary.

She stared down at the ring in horror. Well, perhaps horror was a strong word. More than anything she felt an overwhelming sense of apathy.

In retrospect, she should have seen this coming. She and Gary had been dating for over a year. He was thirty-five, financially secure, had a great job. After all, a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. It just hadn't struck Belle until that moment that anyone would seeher as that wife.

In all honesty, she assumed what she and Gary had was casual. They didn't live together. They'd never taken a vacation together. She'd met his family only once when they'd visited at Thanksgiving. She hadn't meant to let things get this far, but she was lonely and Gary was kind. It had been easy to just go with the flow, let him take her out to dinner once a week, spend the occasional night over. But she couldn't marry him, he must know that.

The truth was, Belle didn't see herself marrying anyone. She could never marry someone for whom she felt anything less than tingles. Only the very deepest love, true love, would have her marching down an aisle in a white dress. And poor Gary just did not inspire those feelings in her. Only one person ever had.

Gary was starting to sweat beneath the crisp collar of his dress shirt. His blue eyes were wide, his smile stretched across his face in a strange tableau of happiness and love. But she knew he didn't feel it either. Gary was going through the motions, checking off the appropriate boxes on his way to his dream life. Corner office? Check! Silver Mercedes? Check! Little wife? Almost check!

She knew she'd stayed silent too long, her stunned response not what Gary had been expecting. She also knew that some sort of response was needed, required even. But part of her wished she could just freeze time, stay in the moment with Gary blissfully unaware of what she was about to say and her own conscience guilt free. But Belle had no super powers. She was an ordinary woman, and time ticked on, the minute hand slowly circumnavigating the face of Gary's Rolex.

She swallowed, sitting back in her chair. Why did he have to do this in public? Right in the middle of a crowded restaurant on a Friday evening. The complete and total lack of understanding of what Belle herself would want in this situation slightly eased her mind at what she was about to do. He really didn't know her at all.

"Well, darling?" Gary prompted, his heartbeat pulsing in the vein at his temple. Belle was distracted by that vein, focusing on it intently instead of her would-be intended's manic eyes. "Don't leave me hanging, Belle."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, closing her small hand around Gary's larger one and forcing the jewelry box closed. The gentle sound of velvet meeting velvet seemed to echo through the dining room as the glittering diamond solitaire was snuffed from view.

Gary's brow knitted as though he couldn't quite conceive of what was happening.

"What are you sorry about?" he asked, glancing down at the closed box as the vein in his temple picked up the pace.

"I can't marry you, Gary," she said slowly. She wished she could have done this somewhere more private, but to say anything other than no in this moment would give him false hope, would only hurt him more in the long run. Belle couldn't do that to him. She only thanked her lucky stars he'd remained seated throughout this debacle and hadn't done something truly stupid like fall to one knee. There were enough people staring their way even without that clear indicator of exactly what was happening at table 6 at Chez Antoine.

The silly smile on Gary's face slipped away as he pocketed the jewelry box. Belle felt she could breathe easier as soon as the thing was out of sight.

"Why not?" he asked, suddenly solemn. "Is this about Elizabeth? Because I thought..."

"No," Belle assured him. "Gary, I'm not the one for you."

Her boyfriend cocked an eyebrow at her. "Then what exactly have we been doing for the past year?"

Belle sighed, rubbing at her temple with one manicured hand.

"Having fun?" she shrugged. "We've never talked about long term. I didn't realize you were even thinking of something so permanent."

"Dammit, Belle," Gary whispered harshly. "I had a plan."

"Well I'm sorry I don't conform to your plan," Belle said, affronted. "But I have to do what's right for me. I wouldn't make you happy, Gary. I think deep down you know that."

Gary leaned away from her with a stiff nod. "Well you're certainly not making me happy now."

He signaled the waiter for the check and less than ten minutes later Belle found herself bundled into a cab and headed home. Gary had insisted on paying the fare, against Belle's objections. But she'd eventually given in rather than face the stifling silence of having him drive her home.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the cracked seat of the taxi. She'd expected a predictable night out with Gary, and now she found herself alone and single yet again. Well, not alone. Not really.

She let herself into her house wearily, the sound of The Real Housewives of Somewhere trickling in from the den. She found Ruby half asleep on the couch and woke her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. After a hug, a promise to call her the next morning and a $20 bill surreptitiously slipped into her purse when she wasn't looking, Ruby left and Belle flipped the television off wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.

She kicked her heels off in the den and made her way upstairs, stripping out of her cocktail dress on the way. She dropped the garment in a crumpled mess in the chair next to her closet and pulled on her favorite old red men's dress shirt, shoving the frayed cuffs up over her hands and burying her nose in the collar as she always did, trying to catch some phantom scent that had long since evaporated.

She took a steadying breath before leaving her bedroom and heading across the hall, peeking in at the sleeping figure within. With a smile, she slipped into the room, climbing onto the bed and spooning up behind the little body hidden beneath the covers.

"Mommy?" came a sleepy voice, tousled brown curls appearing from beneath the sheets.

"Shhh, baby, go back to sleep."

"How was your date?" the little voice asked, sounding more awake this time.

Belle was silent for a long moment, cuddling close to her daughter.

"He asked me to marry him," she said eventually.

"What did you say?" her daughter yawned, turning over to bury herself in her mother's arms.

Belle kissed her daughter's forehead, stroking her back.

"I said no, of course."

"Oh," the little girl said, rather dejectedly.

"Would you have wanted me to say yes?" Belle asked, pulling away to look down at her daughter.

The little girl shrugged. "I want you to be happy."

"I am happy, baby," she assured her. "You make me happy."

"I know," the little girl said, closing her eyes and rolling back over. "But grownups like to be with other grownups."

"Why would I want to spend time with boring grownups when I could spend all my time with you?" Belle asked.

Her daughter just shrugged again. "Why don't you want to marry Gary?"

Belle smiled to herself, pushing a curl out of her daughter's face.

"I think you can probably guess why," she replied.

"No tingles?" her daughter asked, opening her eyes and looking at her mother wryly. A look she'd inherited from a father she'd never met.

"Not a one," Belle said playfully.

"But my dad gave you tingles, right?"

"Your dad was extremely tingle-worthy," she assured her.

"That's good," her daughter said, cuddling her stuffed bear close and burying herself beneath the covers once again. "Goodnight, Mommy."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth."

She was too tired to make her way to her own bedroom, and she didn't much feel like being alone with her thoughts tonight anyway, so Belle pulled the covers up over herself, settling in close to her daughter on the twin sized bed. It wasn't Gary's fault she didn't love him. Perhaps in another world, one where she hadn't fallen so completely at the tender age of twenty-two, she could have loved him. But here she was, wrapped in her dead lover's shirt and clinging to her dead lover's daughter. Nine years on and she was still in love with a dead man. Some days she hated him for that, hated him for leaving her, for dying.

A single tear slipped from beneath her eyelashes and she swiped it away quickly. She hadn't shed tears for him in some time, and she wouldn't start now. What had happened was a tragedy, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She had Lizzy, and that's what mattered. Part of him lived on in their child. If Belle spent the rest of her life alone, it would be well worth the price.

She fell into a dreamless sleep, unaware of the black Cadillac parked down the block or its occupant who'd been watching the house for some time.