I guess I should have expected that it wouldn't go well. I mean who was I kidding? Even I couldn't believe the way that things turned out. But God damn it this was supposed to be a wedding. It should have been a happy and somber occasion, not a fucking bar brawl. Okay, I can sense your confusion, so let me back up just a bit.

My name is Dalton Jones. I'm reasonably good looking, not heart-stopping but I get the job done. I'm tall and well built, and at 27 years old, I've got a great job and the world on a string.

For the past 5 years I've been dating a woman named Heather Benson. Heather is, I must admit, really pretty. She's slim, with small, but pert breasts, long legs and a tight little ass. She has blond hair, incredible green/grey eyes and pouting lips that just beg to be kissed.

I met Heather at my graduation ceremony from college. She was my best friend's girlfriend's best friend. Steve's girl Kelly, had come to our graduation, to see Steve graduate. She had dragged Heather along, and when we met, I was smitten. We started dating and she quickly assumed control in the relationship. The woman had me so busy running and getting things for her and taking her to places that I had no interest in, that if I had just once stopped to look at us from the outside, I'd have seem how poisonous she was. Nature has a way sometimes of making the most lethal flowers, the most beautiful.

Almost from the start, everyone concerned knew that we'd eventually get married. We looked great together, we enjoyed the time we spent together or so I thought, and we even got along with each other's families. Our sex life was great, and Heather always told me when we'd been apart for awhile that I was simply the best lover she'd ever had. We'd both been around the block a few times before getting together, and neither of us held it against the other since this wasn't medieval times and it was expected now, that both parties would come into a relationship with some experience.

Even so, a lot of people were wondering, including Heather's mom and dad, what was taking us so long to get hitched and start producing offspring, aka grand-brats. It wasn't me, it was Heather. She wanted to be sure that we'd be financially and emotionally secure before we tied that final knot. She said that she'd been in a couple of close relationships that had either fizzled, or ended in disaster. She wanted to be sure. And I respected that, since I had no other choice.

One of the peculiar things about our relationship was that it was extremely off and on. Heather would sometimes get angry and break up with me for what seemed like the most trivial reasons. We'd be apart for a week or sometimes two and then she'd come back to me. She'd be very apologetic and tell me how much she missed me, and that she'd never do it again.

So back in early February, I got a call from Heather's mom. She'd had some new furniture delivered and with Heather's Dad out of town on business, I was the man of the house. The furniture guys could only deliver the furniture, they weren't allowed for some reason to arrange it in the house. I really believed that it was just a scam to get more money, but whatever. I loved Heather's parents as if they were my own, so spending an hour or so helping her mom move a couple of tables, a couch and an entertainment center around couldn't be that bad.

It was far worse than I thought. Except for the couch, everything had to be assembled. Even worse was the news that she'd bought a chandelier that wouldn't arrive for another 10 days and would not only have to be hung, but wired in as well.

"Amy will have to help you Dalton. I'm late already for a meeting at my club. Help yourself to anything you want. Thanks again," said Heather's Mom on her way out. She'd taken enough time to show me where she wanted everything, and then hit the bricks.

I'd known Amy since Heather and I first met. Amy was Heather's chunky little sister. I'd watched her grow up and go through that gawky acne faced stage. Amy like most younger siblings had lived her life wearing Heather's old clothes, riding Heather's old bikes and playing with Heather's old toys. She was always screaming about how much she hated Heather's hand me downs.

She'd gone away last September to a college out of state, but had gotten homesick and transferred back in January and was trying to catch up in her studies. I'd always felt sorry for Amy, and treated her like she was my kid sister too. It just seemed like that girl worked twice as hard as Heather did and got only half the results. Whereas Heather had blond hair, Amy's was dark. Heather was tall and slim, Amy was shorter and maybe not chunky any more but definitely more voluptuous. She had huge glasses and zits all over her face. Heather was a girly-girl, Amy was the kind of girl who'd sit down and play a video game with you, and probably beat you.

"Hey Squirt, get your ass down here. We've got work to do," I shouted up the stairs, as I started to open the box containing the first end table.

"Stop yelling at me. You're not my brother in law yet," I heard her scream from somewhere upstairs.

A few minutes later, she snuck up from behind and launched herself at me the way she always did. Of course not having seen her in a while I was unprepared for Amy's new look. She'd gotten just slightly taller, and slightly thinner. She still wasn't as slim as Heather, but no one would ever call her chunky again. The one thing that hadn't gotten any smaller were her boobs, they might even be bigger. And her nipples were threatening to drill through the T-shirt she had on. Heather's boobs were not anywhere near the same class, but it didn't really matter to me, though I couldn't help staring at them. When she bent over to look at the boxes and said, "This is going to take us all day," she smiled.

The thing that scared me was the way she bent over. Her legs remained straight and she bent from the waist causing her perfectly round ass to peek out from those tight shorts. I nearly passed out from the blood loss, as all of the blood left one head and went into the other.

"Whuh?" I managed to mutter as I stood behind the couch hoping to avoid the embarrassing swelling in my pants. I had to get it together. Amy was my girlfriend's little sister. She was the most off limits woman in the world, outside of Heather's mom. Holy shit, I'd called her a woman. When had she turned from my little squirt, to someone I wanted to give a little squirt?

Her face had cleared up and her glasses were gone. How the hell had all of that happened without me noticing it?

"I just said that this is probably going to take a while for us to put all of this shit together and arrange it," she smiled. "You act like you've never seen me before. I'm Amy, Heather's baby sister. You've watched me grow up," she said. She said it like she was talking to someone who was mentally challenged, but I got the impression that she liked my reaction to her.

For the next three hours we worked together assembling and arranging the furniture. Amy seemed to take every opportunity she could to rub herself against me or touch me. If she handed me a hammer, she had to place it into my hand with a lot of contact between my hand and hers. And there was a lot of smiling to go with the contact.

"Valentine's day is only about 10 days away. What are you getting Heather?" she asked.

"Probably one of those Pandora charm bracelets, they keep advertising on TV," I said.

"Wow, you have good taste," she smirked. "They're pretty expensive. It's a shame to waste something so nice on my idiot sister. You should probably give something that nice to someone who really loves you."

I was shocked. My jaw just dropped open and I couldn't figure out what to say.

"Don't look so shocked," she said. "I've watched the 2 of you since I was 15. Why aren't you married yet?" Before I could answer she started up again. "I'll tell you why. It's because my idiot sister isn't ready to settle down yet. She's so secure in the fact that you love her unquestionably, and will take whatever she dishes out to you, that she doesn't feel like she has to rush things. She probably does intend to marry you at some stage, but only when she needs to for security or because she's done fucking around on you."

All of a sudden I couldn't stand up any more. I just fell over, wondering what had turned my little squirt into this evil bitch who had just crushed me. She stood there as if she'd just told me that Heather had washed her clothes. There was no sign on her face that she had just practically tore my heart out.

"You didn't know did you," she said suddenly concerned. "You really didn't know. That bitch! She always told me that you knew. That's why I never told you before now. I'm really sorry Dalton." She crossed the room and nestled my head against one of those spectacular breasts.

"Dalton, I'm really sorry. I started this, but in a way it's good that you find out before you make a terrible mistake and ruin your life."

"I don't believe you. This is some kind of joke." I snapped. "Amy, this probably doesn't matter to you, but I loved you like you were my own little sister. Maybe I teased you a little bit. But it was all in fun. I've never done anything cruel to you, so I just can't imagine why you'd say something like that to me. If you don't like me or don't think I'm good enough for your sister, just say so. But there's no need to try and just hurt me, by lying."

"And whether you know it or not, I've always loved you too. Maybe not in the same way," she snapped. "But that's my business. Dalton, I don't think for a second that you're not good enough for Heather. It's the other way around. Heather isn't good enough for you. I know this is hard for you to believe, but listen to me. Heather is going to do her little deal on you and probably soon. So you need to be ready to break the pattern. In the next couple of days she's going to break up with you after an argument. I know you don't believe me, but when it happens. You and I are going to have a talk."

Amy just walked up the stairs and I left the house. I wondered many things, like when had squirt grown up and become so hot? And mostly was she right? Was her sister, the woman I had worshipped for 5 years, using me like a sucker?

A few hours later, I got my answer, although I didn't want to believe it. I picked up my phone and listened as Heather began yelling at me. "Where were you all day when I needed you?" she snapped at me. "I wanted to talk to you about our relationship and where we're headed, but I couldn't fucking, find you. That's the problem with you Dalton. You're only in this for fun. You just don't take us seriously, do you?"

"Heather, I was at your house. I was assembling the living room furniture that your mom ordered remember?" I asked calmly.

"And that's another one of your problems. You're always out brown nosing my parents. Who the hell are you in a relationship with, them or me?" I heard the beeping signaling that I had a call on another line. I quickly switched and answered the other call while Heather continued to rant.

"Dalton, hang up on that bitch, you don't need to take that from her. She's just trying to break up with you. Please show a shred of self respect, just hang up."

"Okay," I said, switching back to Heather who was in full scream mode now.

"I'm not going to waste my life on someone who doesn't respect my nee..."

"Heather," I screamed interrupting her.

"What Dalton?" she yelled into the phone. "What the hell do you want to say?"

"Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on," I said calmly and hung up on her. Then I switched over to the other line.

"Dalton, are you back? She is really pissed at you now. She's going to do what she was going to do anyway, but now she's kind of wondering if she made a mistake," said Amy. "Anyway, I'll be right over." Then she hung up too.

A few minutes later Amy arrived at my apartment. She walked in as I opened the door and looked around. It had been some time since Heather had brought her by my place. That was back when she used to have to drag Amy along until she was old enough to be left alone.

Amy nodded her head several times obviously trying to remember the place and smiling. Then she looked at me, and she seemed sad but kind of happy at the same time.

"Here," she said and wrapped her arms around me hugging me really hard. "As the night goes on you might need a few more of those. So when you do just let me know. This isn't going to be easy."

She looked at me again and I looked back at her. She was wearing a black sweat shirt and black pants. She had all of that long shiny black hair tied back in a pony tail that went halfway down her back.

"You need to change into some dark clothes," she told me. "Hurry up."

So I went into my room and changed into some black pants and a black sweater. I wondered what Squirt had in mind.

When I got back into my living room, I almost died laughing because my gorgeous 20 year old soon to be sister in law had put on one of those joke shop Groucho Marx noses, with the bushy eye brows and the mustache. "We're in disguise," she said laughing.

We went outside to the parking lot. "Where's your car?" she asked. I led her over to my Red 2010 Roush Stage 3 Mustang GT. "There's no way we can drive that tonight. They'd see us from a mile away, and probably hear us too. What is this any way, your Pussy Wagon?"

"My what!" I sputtered.

"You know; your leg spreader. Your make out car," she said. "You really don't need a car like this to get women Dalton. All you need to do is just be yourself and you can get any woman you want."

We took Amy's car. We may as well have been invisible. She had a gray Toyota Camry. To this day I can't remember what the hell that car looks like. It's just a box with wheels, but that's what we needed apparently. She drove us somewhere and we waited. We scrunched down in the car so no one would see us. After a few minutes Heather and another girl both dressed in extremely short skirts and very high heels came out and got into Heather's car. "Boy, my sister really looks broken up about your break up doesn't she," smirked Amy. I didn't say anything, but I was upset both at the way she was dressed and by the game she appeared to be playing.

Amy followed Heather to a pretty wild looking dance club. Heather and her girlfriend went right in. They waved at the bouncer and just walked in the door they didn't even have to pay the cover charge, so they'd obviously been here before.

I got ready to open the door and go in, but Amy's hand on mine stopped me. "They'll only be in there for a little while," she said. "She's meeting her latest fling here and they're going back to his place. He's a skydiving instructor at a small airfield. He only makes about twenty grand a year. He can't afford to keep her in shoes let alone marry her."

I wanted to scream or go in there and beat the shit out of him. And maybe her too, but most of all I really just wanted to go back to my apartment and throw all of Heather's shit out into the street. She'd accumulated a lot of clothes and things over the last 5 years from all the nights she'd stayed over. It got to the point where if she didn't have enough space for something at her parent's house it ended up at my apartment.

"So what was it that attracted you to Heather?" asked Amy.

"It wasn't really one thing," I said slowly. "She was just..."

"Hot," finished Amy. "Yeah I'd have to give you that one. My sister is definitely hot. But she's only hot on the outside. Next time you need to set your sights on a woman who burns for you on the inside."

Before I could think of a reply Heather came out of the club. She was walking with a really cheesy looking guy with a mullet hair cut. He had one of his hands on her ass, and he reached under her skirt right out in the street. Amy took a picture of them in that pose with the camera on her iPhone. "Why'd you do that?" I asked. "We're not married, so we don't need any evidence for a divorce. I'll just go my way and she can go hers."

"It isn't for you Dalton," she said. "I need it."

"Well Nancy Drew, you've proved your case," I said sadly.

"Dalton, you're not going to cry or anything, are you?" she asked me. She was looking at me, with a lot of concern on her face.

"No squirt, I'm not going to cry. But this is pretty hard. Finding out the woman I've loved for 5 years doesn't love me back. I mean even for an adult, having your heart broken is pretty rough."

"Dalton you should be looking at this as an eye opener. This is a good thing because now you can see where you really stand with that bitch. And one thing that you said was kind of wrong. Heather really does love you, in her own way. And she loves the things you can do for her even more. She's never going to marry Luke Skyjumper. He's just someone else to play with in her endless quest for adventure. Eventually she's going to settle down with you. But for now it's a skydiver this month, and some big black guy next month. But eventually she'll be all yours, except for the occasional affair. Just like my mom and dad. Eventually you'll start having yours too, or just go crazy."

Amy drove us home in silence. Neither of us really had much to say.

I needed to get out of town for a while, so I took some vacation time at work and went camping alone. I got out into the woods at a cabin I rented and just ran the trails, and explored. I only carried a bottle of water and my cell phone when I ran. I used the phone's GPS to mark the cabin's location so I could always find my way back. Over the 8 days that I was gone Heather didn't call me at all for the first 3 days. Then on the 4th day she left me a cold sounding message. The next day she wondered why I hadn't returned her call and by the last day she was begging me to call her back. Amy called me every single day that I was gone, but I didn't return her calls either. I really didn't want to talk to either of the sisters. Not the one who broke my heart, or even the one who set me straight.

The day I got back was of course Valentine's Day. It had taken me 8 days but I finally got Heather out of my heart. It was like quitting smoking, cold turkey. The hardest part is when you haven't had a cigarette in a few weeks and you run into someone who's smoking. Your body doesn't need the cigarette anymore, but your mind reminds you of the pleasure you once got from it. The question is whether or not your will is strong enough not to go back to it.

I got the Box from the jewelry store and threw it into my car. I stopped off at a florist on my way. Even the growl from my Mustang's Cherry bomb exhaust system was sluggish as if the car didn't want to go to that house again. I pulled up in front of Heather's house and backed into her driveway. Her dad, Dave Benson, opened the door for me and thanked me for the job I'd done on the furniture. "I don't want to pry," he said. "And I know that relationships have their ups and downs, but Heather's really been upset for the past few days. She thinks you don't love her anymore. It's good to see you back."