Skye woke up after only three hours, twenty minutes before her alarm. That gave her almost an hour to get her thoughts in order. Dušek got out of bed at 5:30 every morning, even on weekends, like a madman. He would today too.

She sat up and rubbed sleep from her eyes. Her cheeks burned with shame. Her filthy dream about Jeffrey was far too fresh a memory. Of all things, why was that what her unconscious mind had created?

Awake now, she had no freedom from self-condemnation. It hit her hard, and worse than the night before.

She considered making herself breakfast, hopeful that a meal would give her added strength. Ultimately, she decided against it. The noise might rouse one of Arundel's many guests, and she wanted Dušek to be the first person she spoke to.

She sat in silence and practiced her explanation. Everything she thought of seemed idiotic and cruel. Such a task was too big for her; she'd never been good at discussing feelings, and she was particularly poor at the discomforting ones. She was at her weakest when she was in the wrong, and today she would be more wrong than she had ever been before. She was starting to understand why others elected to run away, leaving their jilted fiancé at the altar with only a note of farewell. They avoided questions and accusations that way; they didn't have to see the look on their fiancé's face. It would be nice to be so selfish, but Skye rejected the temptation. She had made this mess, and she would walk straight through its wreckage to suffer every burn of her own flames.

With each passing minute, Skye's confidence waned. She hadn't had much to begin with, but when (much too soon) 5:30 arrived, she was gutless.

The room she shared with Dušek was on the first floor, so at least she wouldn't have to brave any stairs. She wobbled on her feet as she wandered through the halls to the correct door. She ran her hand along the wall for stability like a drunk, but instead she felt diseased. She stopped outside, not yet containing the courage she needed to open the door. A quick glance at her watch told her that her heart rate was 137. She stared at the number, inhaling deeply through her nose until her pulse settled below 100.

She had to do this, and she had to do it now. Bravery was her only option.

As expected, Dušek was awake, in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He poked his head out the door when he heard her come in. He smiled with the toothbrush still in his mouth.

Skye smiled back tightly. This was true torture. He was so unaware, so content and trusting. Her eyes pricked with tears, but she forced them back. The one thing she would not do was cry. To do so when breaking a person's heart was rank manipulation.

Dušek finished brushing and joined her in the bedroom. "You didn't come back last night."

"Were you worried?" Skye hadn't thought of that. Of course he would be, if he woke up in the middle of the night and discovered her missing from their bed.

"Not really. I didn't realize until this morning," said Dušek.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to worry."

"I still am a little bit," he admitted. "Are you okay?"

He was looking at her with such concern and affection. Skye felt as frail as a bag of bones.

"Um…no. I'm not." There was no time for procrastination. The longer she waited, the crueler she would be. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Can we take a talk— I mean a walk. Can we take a walk to talk?"

Dušek slowly reached for his glasses case, now rightfully wary. "Sure."

"Okay," said Skye, her exhale failing miserably to calm her. "Actually, forget that. Can we sit? Let's sit."

Dušek cleaned his glasses and set them on his face. "Alright."

He sat on the edge of the bed. After a moment's hesitation, Skye did too, but she was silent. Scared.

"Is something wrong?" Dušek eventually prodded.

Skye nodded and mumbled, "Yeah."

She would have to do better than that, but she lapsed back into silence. She'd forgotten how to speak.

It was again Dušek who did first. His whisper was rough. "Please don't."

"What?"

"Skye." Dušek's shoulders sagged. "Don't call it off. Please."

Her head swung toward him. Just like, he had figured it out. Had she been so obvious?

"I love you." He reached for her hand, and though Skye knew it would only make this worse, she let him take it. "More than I've ever loved anyone, I love you. I want to be your husband. I want our life."

"Dušek—"

He started talking again, pleading in a great rush. "But forget what I said. If you want to call it off, that's okay. We don't have to get married." He squeezed his hand tighter around hers. "I don't need a wedding, just you. I want to be with you in whichever way you'll have me. Please say you still will."

Skye sucked in a long breath. She looked out into the room, away from his face, because it was too much for her to handle while he was begging her like that. She might give into him, and then she would only break him later.

"Don't—" Her voice caught. She swallowed. "Please don't make this more difficult."

Dušek let go of her hand. He dropped it like it had sprouted thorns. "Wow. Alright then."

It was Skye's responsibility to direct this conversation. She owed Dušek transparency, but her rising shame and regret strangled her voice dead.

"I need you to tell me—" Dušek began. He shook his head with a rigid smile. "I need you to tell me where you found the nerve to criticize me because I was a little rude to him. How you could ask me why." He snorted, then ran his hand down his face. There was no plea left there, only indignation. "I knew, Skye. I could feel it. The second he walked up, I knew."

Skye's lips parted. Had everyone known about Jeffrey but her? Surprise got the better of her. Witlessly, she said, "I didn't say it's because of—"

Dušek interrupted. "Are you going to say it's not?"

Skye wished she could, but she didn't dare lie to him. She broke eye contact with Dušek and stared at her hands, which she wrung in her lap.

"That's what I thought."

"I'm sorry." An apology was all that she had to offer him, even if it would be worthless and unwanted.

"Unbelievable. The guy gets everything he wants." Dušek had muttered that to himself more than to Skye, but the next thing he said was directed at her. "I get it now. This is why he was so goddamn nice, why he went out of his way to get to know me – so I wouldn't guess that he's fucking my fiancée."

That yanked Skye out of her guilty, frightened stupor. "No, that's not— no!"

But Dušek wasn't done. He wasn't listening. "He's smart. I really didn't trust him when I got here, but he changed my mind. He got me to like him." He laughed resentfully and spat, "Son of a—"

"I'm not sleeping with Jeffrey!"

"You know, I almost said it – the other day when you were in my face telling me I'd been stupid, I almost said that I couldn't help it, because he doesn't look at you the way he looks at your sisters. But I didn't. I shut my mouth, because I knew you'd flip a lid if I ever implied that he just might not be as innocent as everyone thinks he is."

"He's—" Skye started to say that Jeffrey really was innocent, but Dušek didn't let her speak.

"You wanted to make me the bad guy, and honestly, great job, because I felt like such an ass. I was mortified. You made me feel possessive and insecure, but I was right!" His voice had risen on every word until he was almost shouting at her. He didn't want to do that – he wasn't a shouter – so he clenched his hand over his knee and glared at the ceiling until he wouldn't. He whispered instead. "I was right."

"I'm not sleeping with him," Skye said again, whispering too.

Dušek did look at her, but he ignored her. "What did he say to you? That he's been in love with you forever, right? What else? That he has a lot more to offer you than I do? I know I'm not a fucking millionaire, Skye, but I thought—" His voice cracked, making his jaw pulse with annoyance. "I thought I was still worth something to you."

"You are! It's not about money at all, I just…" Skye hid her face behind her hands and rubbed at her stinging eyes. No tears, she ordered herself. No tears, no tears, no tears.

"You love him," Dušek finished for her. "And, apparently, you couldn't figure that out until after you said you would marry me."

Skye lowered her hands and nodded. She doomed herself with that nod.

"Okay." Dušek nodded too, and he stood up. "I'm going to kill him."

"Dušek!" Skye jumped off the bed. She planted herself in front of him, put her hands on his chest to hold him back. "Don't—"

He snorted again and muttered, "Oh my god." He stepped around her and stalked toward the door. Without looking back, he said, "Did he talk to you before or after he sent me to you last night? Because if it was before—"

"Neither! He didn't— fuck. Stop, Dušek!" Skye chased after him, her head full of horrible images of him beating the living daylights out of a very unsuspecting Jeffrey.

She threw herself against the door. Dušek pulled back, startled, then reached for the handle. Skye smacked his hand away and latched the door. She barricaded it with her body.

"Cute," Dušek said bitterly. "Really cute."

"Stop it!" said Skye. "Do not go after Jeffrey."

Dušek's anger stayed on his face for only a second before it deflated. Softly, almost sadly, he asked, "What are you afraid I'm going to do?"

"I don't know! You just said kill him."

"Christ, Skye, not literally!" Dušek snapped. "I'm pissed off! I'm not going to hurt him, just— I don't know, cuss him out or something."

"Well, don't! Cuss me out, yell at me!"

Jeffrey had had both the maturity and the situational awareness to stay out of her relationship. She would not let him take the fall because she had stuck him in the middle of it anyway.

Dušek sighed and raised his hands. He backed away until Skye felt that it was safe to leave the door unguarded.

"Jeffrey doesn't know," she said. "He didn't tell me anything. All he's ever said is that he thinks you're great and he's happy for me."

Dušek shook his head. "Where were you last night, Skye? Tell me you weren't in his bed. Look me in the face and say that."

"I wasn't. I slept on the couch – alone. Jeffrey was never there." Skye walked up to him. She put her hands on his face. "I didn't come back here because I didn't want to pretend like everything was alright. He doesn't know anything about this, okay?"

Dušek took a step back, away from her hands. "I don't want you touching me like that anymore."

Of course he didn't. Why would he? What had she been thinking? She'd fallen back on a reflex, an ability she had once had to better soothe him with her touch than with her words. That ability was lost, and she would not forget again.

"I won't. I'm sorry."

"Sorry." Dušek repeated it resentfully under his breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, and for a long time, he didn't move.

"I didn't cheat on you, Dušek. I swear it – on the Penderwick Family Honor, on my mother's grave, whatever you want me to swear it on, I do. I swear," said Skye. "Do you believe me?"

Dušek dropped his hand and shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't think I even care."

Skye had obliterated too many lines – physical infidelity, an emotional affair, it all blended together. She was still a Benedict Arnold.

"But if you think I'm stupid enough to believe that he didn't even make a pass at you…" Dušek shook his head.

"It's the truth. Jeffrey respects me and he respects you too much to do that," said Skye. "He did nothing. He said nothing. You don't have to hate him."

Dušek stared at her, then his mouth twitched at the corners in what Skye could not distinguish between a smile or a sneer. He returned to the bed and dropped heavily on the mattress.

"Are you really more worried about what I think of him than you are about how you just made me feel?"

"It's not that! Of course it's not." Skye could admit that was what she may have insinuated. Unintentionally, but she was rather predisposed to go to bat for Jeffrey. She needed to turn that instinct off for now. She was making things worse. "This is my fault, and I want you to blame me. He doesn't even know how I've been thinking about him, so don't be mad at him. I'm the one who really deserves it."

Whoops. Skye knew her mistake the second she said it. Out loud, her words sounded heartless.

"Ah," said Dušek. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "And how have you been thinking about him?"

"Dušek…" Skye mumbled. Nothing good would come from sharing that truth.

He scoffed. "Yeah, never mind. I'm sure I can guess, but I would like to know how long."

"Only since last night."

"Consciously, maybe. How about unconsciously?"

Skye stared at her feet. Too quickly for her to fight, her eyes welled up and spilled over. "I don't know."

"Got it," Dušek muttered. He looked up, saw her tears, and just as she had suspected, wasn't pleased by them. "Do not cry right now, Skye. Seriously, don't."

It was so hard not to cry when told not to, but Skye managed and dried her face.

"Sit down." Dušek gestured next to him with a sharp flick of the hand.

Skye sat.

"What happened last night?" he asked. "If Jeffrey didn't say anything, then what?"

The answer humiliated Skye. She thought it reflected far worse on her than if Jeffrey had come to her himself.

"His mother talked to me," she reluctantly and quietly admitted. "She chewed me out for marrying someone else at Jeffrey's house, because I guess he's in love with me. She said I have to move the wedding and cut Jeffrey out of my life so that he can move on."

Dušek laughed, not for very long and not at all lightly. It was almost a mocking laugh. "This is the same mother who hates your family and whose word you never take seriously?"

Skye flushed. "That's the one, yes."

"You know she could be lying, right?"

Skye shrugged.

"And you didn't check with Jeffrey. You don't even know if he'll take you."

"Right. I didn't. I don't."

Dušek's face was drawn and grim. "But you're dumping me anyway. On a whim. Just in case."

Skye hated that word: dump. He made it sound like she was tossing him out with the garbage. He meant so much more to her than that.

"I don't want her to be lying. That's the problem. I never thought he might love me like that now, and—"

"Now?" Dušek repeated. "As in, again?"

Shit. Skye's mouth was out of control. "He…he did ask me out in high school. More than once."

"Of course he did," Dušek muttered. "And of course, no one ever told me that."

"I didn't think it mattered. It was so long ago, and it's not like we ever dated. I told him no!"

"A mistake, clearly."

"It wasn't! I didn't want him back then. I can't even tell you when I started to. I… I think I was afraid to ruin what we already had. He's been my best friend forever, and it seemed like he had moved on. I guess I buried my feelings." She tugged at the ends of her hair. "Maybe I should have known."

"Yeah, you should have," said Dušek.

"Mrs. Tifton made me face it. She gave me hope. It's not what she was trying to do, but that's what happened. And once I admitted my feelings, I couldn't make them go away."

"It's been one night, Skye. You haven't even tried." He silently bounced his leg, then both legs. They were still bouncing when he said, "I would work through this with you. You can fall out of love. It's possible."

"I can't."

Sullen, Dušek smiled and rolled his eyes. "You can. You don't want to."

No, she didn't want to. Thus, an impasse. "You're worth better than this. Better than me."

He nodded like he agreed with her. She hoped he did. A lengthy silence fell upon them. Dušek didn't look at Skye. She did look at him.

"It was never real, was it?" he said. "Our relationship has never been real."

The blow was brutal. It knocked the wind right out of Skye. "Don't say that."

"This entire time – from the beginning, all I ever was to you was a substitute for Jeffrey." He spat his name like poison, then dropped his head back as if to gaze into the heavens. Ironically, he laughed. "God, I was so fucking blind."

"I loved you," said Skye. "I do love you."

Dušek lifted his head, but his body drooped in resignation. "Just not enough, right?"

Skye gave a slight, rueful smile. "Not enough to be worthy of you."

Dušek chewed on his lower lip, his teeth a tool with which he fought a sneer. "Do you tell yourself that so you'll feel better?"

Yes, Skye thought. She said, "It's true."

"It's an excuse. You sound ridiculous." Dušek took a deep breath and wiped his face clean of hostility. "Don't pretend you're doing what's best for me. You don't really care."

"I do care." Skye didn't know how to make him see that.

He sighed. "You want Jeffrey. That's it. This is not about me at all."

"It is about you. I don't want to mess up more than—"

"Stop!" Dušek snapped. He looked away until he had relaxed. "Just say it like it is. That's all I want, okay?"

"Okay."

"No, really. Say it. You want Jeffrey more than me."

Skye would rather not say that, true as it was.

"Please?" he mumbled. "It'll be the first time you've been totally honest with me."

She couldn't deny him when he put it like that. When he said please. Whatever he wanted, even if she didn't understand. "I do. I'm sorry."

"You're still not saying it."

It made her feel cold hearted, the admission a whip she hit across his face. On an exhale, she said, "I want Jeffrey more."

Dušek nodded. "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. This is what I get for pushing you about the wedding." He rested his forehead in his hands, and he started shaking. For a dreadful moment, Skye thought he was crying, but no. He was laughing, and that was worse. He let his hands fall into his lap. "All those times you said that you didn't want to get married, what you meant was you didn't want to marry me."

"I didn't know."

"I believe you." Dušek coughed quietly to clear his throat. "But I wish you would have realized that before our wedding day."

"Me too."

He sighed and tousled his hair. "It is what it is, I guess."

"Yeah," Skye mumbled. She held back yet another apology.

The corner of Dušek's mouth lifted. It was a forced smile, but Skye was grateful for it. "For what it's worth, I know he loves you," he said tightly. "I think it's obvious, and he would be a fool not to."

Skye's heart swelled and cracked. It was quite the chore – keeping her tears at bay. He didn't have to say that. He shouldn't have; he gained nothing from it, but he chose to encourage her. Again she was stuck with the question of how she had walked over someone who was so good.

"Can I—" Dušek swallowed and stared hard at the opposite wall. "Can I have my grandmother's ring back?"

"Oh. Yes. Yeah, of course."

Skye worked the ring off her finger and set it in Dušek's palm. He closed his hand around it, tight enough his knuckles turned white. He pressed that fist to his mouth and gazed at the ground with empty eyes. He said nothing. Skye said nothing too.

Dušek hid the ring inside his glasses case. "What am I supposed to tell my family?"

"That I'm a bitch and you're better off? You can tell them that you left me, if you want."

"I don't. I'm not a liar, even if the truth is humiliating."

"No, please don't be humiliated. I'm the liar. I lied to you and to myself, and it's me who should be humiliated. I am, and I'm so sorry."

"I know you are," said Dušek. "And you're not a bitch. You're stupid, but that's all."

"I am stupid. I'm the biggest moron in a whole universe of morons." Emotion flooded into Skye's voice. She did not speak again until it was gone – or rather, better contained. She couldn't rid herself of all of it. "I never wanted to hurt you. You've been so good to me, and this is a really shitty way for me to treat you back. I've been terrible and deceptive. You trusted me and I abused that. I'm going to be sorry for it for the rest of my life." Her tears broke free. There was nothing she could do. She choked out the rest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It doesn't change anything, but I am. And I know you don't want to hear this, but I have to say it, because it's true. Someone is going to treat you right one day, in all the ways I didn't – and even when you find her, and you're happy and you have everything you want, I will still be so, so sorry."

Dušek had grabbed a pen off the nightstand, which he'd flipped in the air and caught through Skye's entire lamented apology. When she finished, he set it aside and reached for a tissue box.

"Thank you," he said, holding the box out to her. "And you're right. I'll be fine."

Skye blew her nose and wiped her face, out of tears now.

Dušek stood up and offered her his hand. He pulled Skye to her feet, and to her great surprise, he hugged her. She melted into that hug. She shouldn't; she deserved no comfort from him, but there it was. She was not strong enough to say no to it. This was exactly why she hadn't wanted to cry – because he would be there for her, as he always was, and as she was no longer there for him.

"I am hurt, Skye." Dušek's voice wobbled, but he never lost control of it. "You did betray my trust, but I forgive you, alright? I forgive you."

"You shouldn't." Skye sniffed and hid her face in his shoulder, which all too soon would cease to be familiar to her.

"That's true. I shouldn't, and I shouldn't do this either, but—" He lifted her chin and whispered, "Stop me if it's not okay."

He kissed her, and Skye didn't stop him, not even when he tugged on her hair and his tongue opened her mouth. Worse, she stepped closer, and he drew her in with an arm around her waist. It went on for too long, impossible to break, because once they stopped kissing, they never would again. Skye, in the middle of leaving him for someone else, still felt the acute pain of that loss.

Dušek was the one to finally back away, and he did so in an abrupt three strides – one second on her mouth, and the next, out of her reach.

He rubbed his lips together and folded his arms. "I just wanted to know our last kiss when it happened."

Skye nodded, she herself relieved that their last kiss had turned out not to be the one during which she'd been thinking of Jeffrey.

Dušek smiled at her, genuinely, though still so full of pain. "I guess I'm the fool now."

"No," Skye whispered, for that would always be her.

"I still love you, moje malá mořská hvězdice," he said. "That cannot change in a single day."

Skye stayed silent, because saying the same would only twist the knife she had personally driven into Dušek's back.

"Whenever you do talk to Jeffrey, I guess I hope you get what you want," he said. "And I hope you know what that is this time."

Skye did know, but she didn't tell him that either. This was goodbye, she knew it was, and she wasn't ready. She would stand there with Dušek until he kicked her out.

It didn't take him long. "You're leaving me, so please just do it. I have to pack my things."

He turned his back on her and began to pull clothes out of dresser drawers. Skye lingered, because that wasn't good enough. Maybe it was cruel for her to want more, but she needed it.

"Dušek?"

He looked over his shoulder.

"I never thought I could be this person."

He turned back to the dresser, but he took nothing else out of it. "Me neither."

"I'm sorry."

"You've said that."

"I mean it."

"I know." He exhaled and faced her again. One last time. "But Skye, please. You have to let me go."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's hard."

He nearly laughed. "Good. That's something. I'd be offended if it wasn't."

Skye smiled too, but she quickly stopped, because to do so was to invite in more tears.

Dušek held her gaze, and he even managed a bigger smile. He shook his head and waved her off, but it wasn't rude.

"Well? Jeffrey's around here somewhere. If you want him so bad, go get him."

Skye might as well have been stabbed through the heart, standing with her blood draining to the floor, weak and unresponsive.

She twisted her hands and steeled herself the best she could. "Can you say it to me? Please?"

"Say what?"

"You know what."

He did. "Goodbye, Skye Penderwick."

She inhaled sharply, shoving down the lump in her throat as she did. "Bye, Dušek."

He smiled again – Skye didn't know how he was doing that – and he nodded at the door. "Alright. Now, go on. Good luck, and go."

Skye went. She softly closed the door behind her, a simple task in itself, except that with it, she slammed the door on the life they had almost had forever.