Ali and Bobby had been at breakfast for forty minutes and Bobby had taken three phone calls. In between calls he’d tried to tell her about some weapons prevention initiative that Cormac had organized for him with the State’s Attorney’s office. He’d told her far less about the initiative itself than about the publicity that Carmac had arranged. He was in the middle of telling her about an appearance they were going to make at an elementary school when she suddenly realized she couldn’t do it, not for one second more.

 

“I can’t do this.” She tried to set her fork down carefully, but her hands trembled so violently she dropped it, and it clattered into her plate loudly enough to get his attention.

 

Bobby blinked at her, blank confusion all over his face. “Can’t do what, Sugar?”

 

“This. The wedding. This life. I can’t. I just can’t.”

 

“Where’s this coming from?”

 

She shook her head.

 

He covered her hand with his. “Do you need to talk to someone?”

 

She shook her head again. “Not someone. I need to talk to you.”

 

“Well, okay…” He still looked baffled. “Let’s talk, then.”

 

“This isn’t what I wanted. Politics. You know that, right?”

 

Reluctantly he replied, “Yes, I know. But you’ve been great about it.”

 

“This isn’t the life I planned. I know it’s not the life you planned, either, but you seem to be okay with heading in that direction. And I’m just not. I want to keep my ranch. I want to still teach, and I never want to attend another political function again as long as I live.” There, I said it. I can’t believe I said it.

 

She was shaking and frustrated, and all he did was put his best reassuring smile on. “I get that you’re feeling nervous, but let’s put things into perspective, Sugar.”

 

“There’s nothing to—” she waved her hands in exasperation. “This isn’t what we planned! I love you, but everything is… wrong.”

 

“It might not have been the original plan, but we have to work with what we’re given here, Ali. We just have to compromise. Make a few sacrifices.”

 

“Except that I’m the one doing all the sacrificing. I keep sacrificing and sacrificing, and I’m afraid—” She bit her lip. “Bobby, I’m afraid if I make one more concession I’m going to just disappear. And no disrespect to your Mama—but I don’t want her life. I want my own life, the one we planned.”

 

Bobby’s face screwed tight and he took a long swill of his coffee. When he finally spoke his voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. Suddenly he was Robert Dawson the politician, and not Bobby her fiancé. “You’re not the only one making sacrifices, Ali,” he said. “My brother is dead. The only way I can keep his memory alive, the only way I can honor all the good he did, is to do this.”

 

She shook her head. “No, Bobby,” she said softly. “The good he did speaks for itself. It isn’t your responsibility to live his life. You have to live your own.”

 

He picked at his eggs with his fork as he searched her eyes.

 

“You’re turning into someone I don’t even know anymore,” she said sadly. “You’re stressed, and irritable, you drink too much, and you don’t sleep well anymore. I can’t remember the last time I saw you happy. When did you last have a really good laugh? You mean to tell me all this is worth it?”

 

He held his gaze and insisted, “There’s a greater good involved here. I can’t just think about myself. Not now.”

 

“Bobby, for cryin’ out loud, yes you can! And I need to think about myself as well. I don’t feel good giving up on the things I’ve worked so hard to accomplish. Everything else I have, someone’s given me. But my work is my very own. I didn’t get it from my parents or your family name. And I can’t give up that very precious thing to be folded into some ready-made life that got handed down from Kip. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

 

“Are you saying your job is more important than me? Than my brother's legacy? Than this whole campaign?”

 

“No, I mean that my sanity is more important than your father’s dream. I love you, Bobby. You’re a wonderful man, and I thought we’d share an amazing life together, but this? This isn’t it.”

 

“You’re not thinking clearly, Sugar." Robert Dawson's stern face dissolved away and it was her fiancé Bobby squeezing her fingers. "Let’s go home and talk about this later. This is just your jitters talking.”

 

“No.” She surprised herself with her own firmness. “Things are perfectly clear. It’s not jitters. I don’t want the life you’re offering me. I don’t think I would ever be happy, and that isn’t fair to either of us.”

 

“Things will calm down, eventually. You’re just overwhelmed by all this activity. I think you need to prioritize and take some things that aren’t working for you off your plate.”

 

She shook her head. “That’s what I am doing. You’re just not listening.”

 

“Ali, don’t. We’re so good together. We’ve had four good years.”

 

“Yes.” She slipped her engagement ring off her finger and slid it across the table.

 

“Alaine, for Christ’s sake, we’re in public,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Not here.”

 

“Bobby. I love you. Please believe that. But I can’t do this. I... I'm calling it off. I need some time.” She stood on shaky legs and walked out of the diner as quickly as she could, blinking back tears until she got in her truck. She closed the door, collapsed against the steering wheel, and sobbed until she thought she’d burst from the pain. Bobby didn’t follow her.