I connect my phone to the car speakers and call Vinnie. It's funny how some people slip into your soul so quietly you don't realize they've rewired your entire emotional ecosystem until you're speed-dialing them from a Brookside parking lot at nine p.m.
I used to think soulmates only came in romantic packages, all sparks and butterflies and cosmic pull. But Vinnie? She's something else entirely. She's the friend who showed up when I didn't even know I was lonely, and who made space for both my crystals and my spreadsheets without batting an eye. The one who gets that I can believe in moon magicandprofit margins with equal fervor. Who texts me photos of sunsets because she knows I collect beautiful moments like some people collect stamps.
Where my otherfriendships are well-worn grooves—Amelia's fierce loyalty, Daphne's careful concern—Vinnie is coming home to a version of myself I forgot existed.
She answers mid-ring, like she's been waiting.
"How was it?"
"I spent two hours counseling a banker through his spiritual awakening while my mascara melted off," I say, pulling out of the parking lot. "He showed me pictures of his ex's handmade fairy wings while crying into his mochi ice cream."
"Jesus, Ivy." Vinnie sigh. "For someone who claims nothing happened at the wedding, you're working awfully hard to prove you're okay."
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. "I told you nothing happened, Vin."
"I don't believe you. You shared a bed, and I didn't miss how he looked at you when we had that video chat." There's a rustling sound, like she's settling in for a longer conversation. "You don't have to tell me what happened. You'll share when you're ready."
"Can we talk about something else?"
"You know what I thought when I first moved here?" Her voice softens. "I saw this ethereal creature who seemed to hold the whole town's heart in her hands. This woman who could read someone's soul in their tea leaves, who knew what crystal would heal what wound. You were like . . . magic personified."
"Vinnie—"
"But now? Now I see someone who's running herself ragged trying to fix everyone else's life while her own is burning at both ends." She pauses. "You don't have to earn your place in people's lives by carrying their emotional baggage, Ivy."
Something cracks in my chest—tiny, almostimperceptible, but there. "I'm not—"
"You are. And you know what? Caleb's an idiot if he can't see how extraordinary you are. You love so freely it hurts to watch sometimes. But it's time to love yourself that fiercely too."
I pull over, unable to focus on the road through the blur in my eyes. "I can't make myself stop," I whisper. "Everyone comes to me with their broken pieces, and I just . . . I can't not try to help put them back together."
"Even when you're falling apart yourself?"
"I'm not." But my voice catches, betraying me. "I'm just tired. So fucking tired of being everyone's answer when I can't even figure out my own questions."
"You don't have to carry it all. You don't have to be anything but yourself. Messy, beautiful, perfectly imperfect Ivy."
A watery laugh breaks free despite the tears. "You make it sound so simple."
"My point is, you've built this beautiful safe space for everyone else. But where's yours?"
The question hits like a thunderbolt, lighting up all the dark corners I've been avoiding. Because the truth is, I'm not sure anymore. Somewhere between being everyone's spiritual guide, and pretending I'm not in love with my best friend, I lost touch with what I need.
"I don't . . ." My voice cracks. "I've never learned how to do this any other way."
"Start small. Set a boundary. Take a day off. Let a text go unanswered." Vinnie's voice takes on a fierce edge. "The universe won't collapse if you stop holding it together for five minutes. Trust me, I'm an artist. Sometimes the most beautiful moments come from letting it all fall apart."
I lean my head back against the seat, watching stars peek through the summer clouds. "Look at you, handing out wisdom like candy."
"Learned from the best. But maybe it's your turn to take the leap." She pauses. "You showed me how to trust my heart with Ethan.Maybe it's time you listened to yours too. Whatever shape that takes."
I reach for my crescent moon pendant, its warmth grounding me. "Even if that means admitting I'm not okay?"
"Especially then." Her smile carries through the phone. "Now go home. Cuddle with Salem and your ducks. Sage your aura."
"I will. And thank you for listening."
"I'm always here, whatever you need."
