I laugh through the ache in my chest. “Deal.”
“And if some hot guy sends you a good opening line, you’re going to give him a real chance.”
“Even if he can’t make a proper latte order?” I tease.
“Especially then,” she grins.
And just like that, we start swiping through pictures and filling in prompts, curating a version of me that feels just real enough to be safe. But deep down, I know the truth: No one on this app is going to compare to the man who made me believe in myself again. The man who kissed me like I was everything.
But sometimes, even believing in a lie for a while is better than drowning in a truth that hurts too much to hold.
We scroll through profiles together, Mia’s fingers quick and decisive as she guides me through the setup. Name, age, a few carefully selected photos. A line about my love for coffee and bookstores. A joke about preferring fictional men with brooding pasts and great jawlines.
It’s oddly comforting—this silly little ritual of putting yourself out there into the void, even when your heart’s not in it.
“Okay,” Mia says, leaning back, satisfaction written all over her face. “You are officially datable.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks.”
She laughs. “I mean it. Someone’s going to look at this and think, ‘Damn, I want to get to know this woman.’”
“I just hope it’s not Elijah,” I mutter under my breath.
But Mia hears me. “He’s not going to see it. Unless he’s on here too.”
My stomach flips. The thought of Elijah swiping through photos and coming across mine feels like a dagger and a lifeline all at once.
“Would he be?” I ask quietly.
Mia nudges me with her shoulder.
“You know... I’ve never seen Elijah on these apps.”
I glance at her. “Seriously?”
She nods. “Trust me. I’ve been on and off them for years. If that man were out there trying to find love with a bad pickup line and a flexed mirror selfie, I’d know. And definitely he is not going anywhere.”
I blink. “How can you be so sure?”
Mia tilts her head, her expression soft. “Because I see the way he looks at you, Ava. I’ve seen it for years. That man would move the earth for you, and you know it. He’s not going to disappear because things are complicated. He’s just giving you the time to figure out whatyouwant.”
My throat tightens. “What if I don’t know?”
“You do,” she says gently. “You’re just scared.”
I nod slowly, eyes stinging. “What if I break us?”
“You won’t,” she promises. “And even if you stumble, Elijah won’t let that be the end. That man is already yours in every waythat matters. Even if he never says it, even if you never kiss again—he’s yours. And he’s not going anywhere.”
I close my eyes and let those words settle into the cracks.
Maybe Mia’s right. Maybe I don’t need a dating app to remind me I’m still lovable. Part of me wants to believe it, but fear is stronger.
I don’t know how long we sit there—Mia beside me, warm and solid—but I eventually lean into her, just enough to let my head rest on her shoulder.
“I wish I could believe it was that simple,” I whisper.
She sighs. “I know. But love isn’t supposed to be simple, Ava. It’s supposed to be real.”
