New Fic-Wishful thinking -6

Four hours later, the electric jangle had finally disappeared from my fingers, just as Jaze had disappeared from my life. She'd said that she was allowed to gallivant around town while I considered my remaining wishes. I could get her back by pinching my thumb and forefinger together, saying her name out loud. Faint tattooed flames on my hands argued that she was playing fair.

Which was more than I had done with Rob.

He was waiting for me after work, ready to drive me to my tiny apartment, apparently prepared to overlook my anger in the pantry. As soon as I saw him in the parking lot, I was swamped with remorse about my wish. I had to tell him everything that had happened. I had to tell him about Jaze. I had to confess my wish.

But the words caught in my throat. I couldn't say Jaze's name or mention the lamp. I was knocked mute each time I tried.

Rob sighed at my spluttering inarticulateness and shoved his key into the car's ignition.

Halfway home, I realized that Rob's sigh hadn't been about my inability to speak. He had something to say, himself. Something that made him nervous, if the raking of his fingers through his curls was any sign.

"Go ahead," I finally said, after he'd pulled into the loading zone outside my apartment building. He stared straight ahead, as if the Saab in front of us was the most fascinating vehicle in the world. "Rob?" I finally prompted.

"You were right," he said at last, each word rasped over sandpaper before it left his throat. "I should have talked to you before I accepted Randolph's offer."

"Thank you," I said, relief and gratitude swirling uneasily into the pool of guilt excavated by my wish. I shoved aside my conflicting feelings and leaned across the gearshift, ready to bury our argument with a kiss.

Rob shook his head, though, and I realized we weren't through talking. "I should have talked to you, but you should have supported me. You should have realized what the opportunity meant to me."

I edged away from the queasy tangle of guilt his words roped around my belly. "Meant?"

"I'm not going to New York."

Yes! My wish had been granted.

But Rob went on. "I don't know enough about Randolph, about the show he's staging. It might all be pie-in-the-sky. A disaster."

"It could be," I said, flooding the words with relief. I covered his right hand with my left and squeezed, giving him a goofy leer. "Why don't you come upstairs? We can talk about the next step that's right for both of us."

He shook his head. "Kelly, no. There isn't any 'us.'"

"What?" I felt like I'd forgotten how to speak English.

"You heard me." He gritted his teeth and leaned against his door, putting as much distance between us as his ancient Corolla permitted. "We're over. Through. I'm breaking up with you."