It seemed like her life was getting crazier every day. She had no idea what she’d done to deserve all this crap, or what she had to do to get things back to normal. In her apartment, she popped two Advils, washed up quickly, and got into bed, waiting for her headache to subside. Finally it did. She still couldn’t believe that what had happened tonight had actually happened. Had Peter really proposed to her? Did he really say that he’d bought an apartment for them? Up until the apartment thing, she’d been having a pretty good time. It had been annoying that he’d made her wait in the cold while he tried to hail a cab, and all the over-the-top romance crap, with that ridiculously expensive French restaurant and all the gushy hand-holding, was too much for her. Still, he’d seemed like a nice, considerate guy who’d survived an awful tragedy. She couldn’t see going out with him, though, and she’d been planning to tell him at the end of the night that she wasn’t looking to get into a relationship right now and that she just wanted to be friends.
