I kind of wish I owned Wes. As it is, I don't.

I hadn't wanted to go. Unlike me, to run away instead of facing my demons, but with her, it was different. I couldn't face Macy.

But I had made Delia a promise, and I had to follow through with it.

I tried to pretend I was being honourable, but I desperately hoped Delia wouldn't need me and I could leave.

"Wes?" Delia called, and I turned my head. She was coming towards me with a tray full of glasses, and when she reached me she placed it down on a nearby table, kissing me on the cheek.

"Hey. Do you need any help?"

She shrugged. "No, I think we're doing fine. You can stay if you'd like," she said, shooting me a look that told me she knew I wouldn't.

"You sure?" I asked her, and she nodded, squeezing my arm. Then she turned away to the oven, and I turned my head and saw her.

She was standing with who I knew must be Jason. He was trying to get her attention, but she was staring at me. Her eyes bored into mine but all I could see was the two of them, together. Perfect. Macy had called him perfect.

Is it what you want?

Yes.

I turned away from her. Things would go back to normal now. Macy would be with Jason- they would complete each other, and it would be like we never even met.

Except I knew it wouldn't be like that. Not at all. Not for me, anyway.

I started to leave. No point in being here anymore.

But I didn't end up leaving. That's because she came after me. She ran after me, actually, reaching me breathless and red-faced, panting in front of me. I was surprised. What the hell was she doing?

"Macy, what-" I started, but she cut me off, holding her palm up.

"I'm sorry, but there's been a change."

"A change?" I asked. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"In the rules," she nodded, and after a few moments my brain caught up, and I understood.

"Ah. The rules."

"Yes."

I decided to play along. "I wasn't notified."

"Well, it was pretty recent," she explained.

"As in…"

"As in, effective right now."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. She must have realised she had hurt me. Was the hurt that present in my face? She was trying to make this better, guilty about hurting me. Trying to fix everything, make everything perfect again. So Macy.

"Macy," I started. She shouldn't have to do this. She shouldn't feel guilty just because she didn't feel what I felt. "You don't have to-"

She interrupted me again, shaking her head. "The change. Ask me about the change."

Why was she doing this? Why was she continuing on like this, asking about a game that didn't matter in the end? But I stuck my hands in my pockets and nevertheless asked: "Okay. What's the change?"

"It's been decided that there's another step to winning the game. And that is that in order for me to really win, I have to answer the question you passed on, that night in the truck. Only then is it final."

I thought back to that night, the question I couldn't answer, at least not truthfully. And I wasn't going to lie to Macy. "The question I passed on."

"That's the rule."

Once again I wondered what the point was. What was she getting at? Why was she doing this? Was it only to make me feel better, to assuage her guilt, or was there something else? Something I didn't dare think about? The only thing I knew was that I couldn't just stand there, not knowing. So I asked the question, not knowing what the answer was, or even if I wanted to know it.

"Okay. What would you do, if you could do anything?"

The answer I got wasn't one I had even thought about, unexpected as it was.

"This," she said, reaching up and kissing me.

Kissing me, her arms around my neck and her hands buried in my hair, and all thoughts of Jason or Becky or anything else was gone, because all I could concentrate on was Macy, Macy, Macy. And suddenly I pitied every angel I'd ever made, any angel who believed they could use their wings and fly away, because there was no way they could reach the height at which I was flying. No way they could soar as high as I was.