“I think that’s why I was so willing to consider the psychic reading and take it seriously.”
I clear my throat and do something twenty-three-year-old me would never have dared to do, turning my hand over to lace my fingers with hers. I wait until her eyes lift to mine before speaking. “Do you believe in fate?”
She bites her lip and I watch with avid fascination as she thinks about it for a moment. I don’t rush her though. That’s something I’d never do, not with something—someone—as important as this.
“I know logically that fate shouldn’t be possible. You can’t dictate someone’s thoughts and actions and somehowknowthat it will turn out the exact same way.”
“That’s more like the law of averages,” I quip.
She rolls her eyes. Her gaze drifts down to our hands and the growing heat between them. It feels right, real, and like we’re exactly where we were always meant to be.
But how do I explain that to her without freaking her out and scaring her off.
Then it comes to me.I show her while she’s here. Then maybe she won’t want to leave.
“I studied mythology for one of my electives. It was the one paper I chose that was purely for my interest and nothing else,” she says.
“OK…”
“And I remember the belief back then that each person’s destiny was like a thread that had been spun, measured and cut by the three Fates,” she explains. “What I didn’t know before talking to the psychic was whether I’d already determined my fate by putting my career before everything else.”
“You listened to her words and decided to throw caution to the wind and see what could be found in a small Alaskan mountain town?”
“Yeah… and hoped that while I was here, I'd get a sign fromsomethingorsomeoneas to what comes next. At the very least, maybe I’ll rememberwhyI chose this path in my life so far.” Her eyes jump wide and her whole body jolts, forcing her to release my hand and shift to her knees in front of me. “Shoot. I totally just went all deep and meaningful with you on our first date! I’m so sorry!”
“Hey,” I say, lifting up so I’m kneeling just like she is. “Is there anythin’ in this supposed first date rule book about goin’ with the flow andnotworryin’ about whether you’ve said too much?” Or not enough, in my case.
She slowly shakes her head, her eyes looking at me with wonder and surprise. Then I see something click in her brain just before a giggle escapes her.
“What?”
“You said not to worry, but I always figured it would beyoudoing that, not me. Look at how the roles have reversed now,” she says, laughing again.
“I realized before that I haven’t once second-guessed anythin’ with you since we left the cabin. Past me would be high fivin’ present me right now.”
She cocks her head. “Not at all?” she asks curiously.
“Nope.”
“Why do you think that is?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, but I’m definitely not goin’ to question it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Why tempt fate? Get it,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.
She playfully hits my shoulder. “Dork.”
“Yep. And guess what? This dork is already lookin’ forward to our next date.”
Then she smiles at me and it’s so real, so genuine, that there’s no controlling the grin I give back to her. “I am too.”
“Good,” I say, sitting back down. “Did you want to head back soon? I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got things to do before work tomorrow.”
“Can we stay a little longer? It feels like we’re in our own little world here. I like sharing that with you.”
I like sharing that with you.Definitely high fiving myself right now.
