Avoiding Nathan is one thing, it turns out avoiding my match-maker and my assistant is quite another.

"I don't get it," Bethany whines, "you were so happy."

I'm hoping she can't see my face behind my computer screen. It's not exactly an eye roll, but it's definitely the sort of expression that would convince Beth that I want to talk about it.

Which I don't.

Which is why I'm in my office, working on the book keeping, instead of out in the store spilling my guts to my 18 year old assistant.

"Fine," she huffs when I don't answer her, "but you know it's true. You and Nathan are meant to be together, that's why you found each other."

The relief that floods through me when she finally turns on her heel and heads back out front actually makes me feel even worse.

Everything was so perfect. From that first night, I knew Nathan was The One.

My eyes go unfocused and misty as I stare at the computer screen.

Well...the Next One, I guess.

I feel like shit. getting so wrapped up in Nathan like he's the love of my life and just...forgetting...Paul.

What kind of wife does that?

Bethany is right, I was falling hard for Nathan. I was ready to marry him. I was going to sell my house-- mine and Paul's house-- and move away and live happily ever after.

Like it was the first time. Like I didn't already find my soul mate. Like...like...

I should have known better than to come back down to the store. Between the never-ending roller coaster ride my emotions have been on lately and Bethany's insistent optimism about my future with Nathan, being down here is just as hard as being at the house.

Maybe harder.

At least there's no one at the house telling me how I'm supposed to feel or what I'm supposed to do. It's just me and the house. Me and my memories of every room and every piece of furniture we bought together and every time Paul made me laugh there.

I feel terrible that I ever thought about selling our house.

I can't believe I was going to--

"Just point, I know she's here."

The familiar voice shocks me out of my thoughts. I find myself searching the office for an escape hatch. Of course, there's isn't one.

All I can do is sniff and try to wipe away any evidence that I've been crying-- for the last 2 weeks-- before Helen busts through my doorway.

Bethany's worried face is visible over Helen's shoulder. The silent question of whether or not she should follow the old woman in or call the police is enough to make me laugh-- but just a little.

I give my curious assistant a shake of my head to let her know everything is fine or, at least as fine as it's going to get. Beth's mouth opens to say something but Helen's already in my office and doesn't bother with pesky formalities like explaining herself before she slams the door in my assistant's face.

"What the fuck, Tiffany?"

Helen stands with her back to the closed door, both fists on her hips, glaring at me.

I'm not sure if I'm more surprised to see her here or by her choice of words.

Definitely by her being here.

"What? You don't think an old lady knows how to book a flight?"

This isn't the inappropriately sassy woman that I've come to know. She's not joking around. Helen is pissed.

She looks at me like she has a lot more choice words for me but then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head.

"You're lucky I like you," she tells me in a defeated tone as she pulls out the chair in front of my desk and takes a seat. "You're damn lucky Nathan loves you," she warns, "or I'd kick your ass.

"Now, you wanna tell me what this nonsense about calling off the deal is about?"

What do I say?

I haven't had the courage to answer Nathan's calls. When Helen started calling me, I had a feeling it was because Nate must have told her I backed out. I didn't expect anyone to actually show up on my doorstep. Especially not Helen.

"I just--" The tears well up in my eyes and no amount of sniffling can keep them from spilling over. I grab a tissue and curse myself for being such an emotional wreck about it all.

"I just can't do it, Helen," I look up at her, expecting her to understand, "I can't marry Nathan."

After all, it was Helen that made me realize how unfair I was being.

"And just why the hell not?"

I'm floored that Helen, of all people, doesn't seem to understand. She leans on my desk and stares at me with piercing eyes that accuse me of unspeakable evil.

"You were talking about Harold," I see her face soften when I say her husband's name but she still seems clueless about my realization.

"And what about him?" She sits back in the chair and folds her hands in her lap, patiently waiting for me to continue.

"You said you'd never get married again," I remind her.

"What's that got to do with you and Nate?"

"Well, it made me think," I say as my eyes land in my lap, "you loved him so much. You said you'd never find another man like him again. It made me realize that getting married again would be selfish of me. I don't want to betray Paul's memory like that. For what? Because I'm lonely?"

I shake my head vehemently and grab another tissue.

It's not fair, I think. It's not fair to have to choose between Paul and Nathan. I didn't even explain it all to Raven when I told her I couldn't go through with it, but Helen lost her husband too. She knows what it's like to find true love and lose it.

"Harold was my One and Only," Helen says softly, "that's true, I did tell you that." She looks down at her hands in her lap, turning them over as if seeing them for the first time. "I had him for 43 years. Not a day goes by that I don't still talk to him. But Sweetie," she leans forward with her elbows on my desk again, "love isn't a one and done deal for everyone. Just because you fell in love with Nathan doesn't mean you didn't love your first husband. It's not an either/or sort of thing."

"You don't think I'm betraying Paul by getting remarried?"

"Is that what you think?" All that anger has disappeared from Helen's voice and she looks at me with deep sympathy. "Raven told me you came to her asking for something sensible, that you didn't think you'd find love again in this lifetime and you were just looking for companionship."

"Pretty much," I agree.

"She also told me the day she gave me your file that she knew you were ready to love again, and she knew Nathan was the right man for you. And I knew it too, as soon as I talked to you that first time. And his girls know it. Nathan knows it...and so do you."

Her hands reach across the desk for mine and I accept the gesture gratefully.

"I already told Raven." New tears start falling and Helen squeezes my hands.

"And I already told Raven you didn't really mean it," Helen whispers.

I can't help but laugh, but then reality dawns on me, "But Nate-- I fucked it all up, Helen. I didn't even have the guts to tell him myself. He'll never forgive me."

"Girl you are trying way too hard to cheat yourself out of a good thing," she tells me with another squeeze of my hands.

By the time my unexpected visitor leaves my office, she's got me convinced that all I need to do is call Nathan up and explain it to him.

But my call goes straight to voicemail.

And so does the call I make 15 minutes later.

And the one I make an hour later.

"The book club ladies are here." Beth's voice is as soft as her knock on my door. "Are you OK?" She asks when she sees me with my head on my desk.

How do I explain it to Bethany? She's 18. She's never had her heart broken. Her whole life is ahead of her. She deserves to go on believing in happy endings. I don't want to be part of dulling that sparkle in her.

I shake my head against the wood and try to stifle the sob.

"Tiff?" She sounds concerned. And closer. When I lift my head up, I'm not surprised to find her in the chair that Helen was sitting in just a couple of hours ago.

"I should get home," I sniffle. "You can take care of the ladies."

Bethany looks slightly panicked for a second and then she smiles, "Actually, they're expecting you to share your thoughts on that mystery you recommended last month, remember?"

Was that today? I try to think back. So much has been going on. I remember making the recommendation and I remember promising them I'd talk to them about it when I got back from Colorado and...dammit. I guess they probably are expecting that today.

"Let them know I'll be in in a few minutes."

I give in.

I feel like shit, but Beth looks ecstatic.

"They'll be so excited," Beth chirps as she jumps up while I make my way to bathroom.

I'm going to have to work a miracle with some makeup if I don't want to spend the next 2 hours explaining why I've been crying to a bunch of nosy book club ladies.