Meet Lorna. I love writing her, so you'll inevitably hear more about her and her "boy"

Let me know what you think.

-Mirlyn

.X.X.X.

I was finally asked. He went the whole nine yards too -- but not in the really cheesy way. We'd gone to a classy restaurant on our anniversary, had a lovely dinner, and then my slice of chocolate mousse came out with a diamond ring on top. It was...Huge and pretty and sparkling. And then he got down on his knee and asked me -- and I just sat there and stared in shock. He was smiling that handsome sincere smile and he was so confident I'd say yes and...I just continued to stare at him before shaking my head.

"No. Of course I'm not going to marry you."

Luckily for both him and me it wasn't a movie, so instead of everyone hanging on our words and outraged gasps, he just quietly got back into his seat and frowned at me, "Why not?" He did sound hurt, but, hell, he couldn't have expected less.

I arched an eyebrow, "Sweetheart, I can think of seven reasons off the top of my head right now." Okay, so seven was an arbitrary number. But I was positive I could think of at least seven...right? Fuck.

He continued to frown and wait for me to list.

"Well. First off, I don't even like diamonds. That whole blood trade in Africa, that's just not cool." I punctuated this with a sip of my wine and a nod. I needed more reasons that wouldn't be that mean, I mean, I didn't want to marry him now but maybe later...? No. Not so much. But with what had happened with El--Well I didn't want to close any doors. So it was all about treading carefully. "Secondly, I don't like gold and if you knew anything about me or knew me well enough to marry me you'd know that and wouldn't be offering me, well, that."

Another sip and nod and I held up a hand to halt what he was about to say, "Third, I've never met your parents. Only your siblings. And I believe that in marrying someone you're marrying their family, and I won't agree to marry anyone without knowing their family." Shit. That was something he could fix... "Fourth, you don't know my family and I'm not sure you could even name all my siblings in correct order if I asked you to. If you don't know my family I'm not willing to start one with you." Better.

"Fifth, your job is very transient and I'm not ready to settle down with someone who literally can't settle down in a single location. I need a home base and shit. You should know that." True. Well, true that he moved, not that I needed a home base completely, I could adapt but...I didn't want to adapt for him.

Shit. I was running out of things. Well, I had one more...Then I could BS a last one, easy. "Sixth, we've only been dating for six months. That might seem like a long time to you but I've had boyfriends for over a year and we never even got close to marriage," much as I wished we had at the time, "So six months is just too short."

And...Fuck. I was out of reasons. Okay. Think Lorna, think. I let my gaze dart around the restaurant for a brief moment and I caught a familiar face out of the corner of my eye and my heart jumped -- though when I looked there it wasn't him. But that had given me my final reason, and fuck it, I was closing this door. "And seventh, I don't love you. I'm sorry, but I don't. I never thought we'd date this long really. You'd asked me out when I still wasn't over a guy and I said yes 'cos I thought it would just be fun and...I'm sorry. But I don't love you."

I stood, placed some money by my plate and uneaten mousse with a sigh and left. He, understandably, just sat there completely dumbfounded. I headed to my twin's place, knowing that I certainly couldn't stay in the apartment with him (why had I even moved in with him?) and that he'd need a few days before I could stop by and pick up my stuff. Besides, Sean still had a ton of my stuff in boxes somewhere, I'd be fine for a few days.

As long as I didn't think about that seventh reason. And about the fact that I just knew I had seven reasons to try to call the guy I was in love with -- and just as many to never speak to him again.

Whoever said seven was a lucky number had a sick sense of humor.