“I want to hear your stories,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone knows mine. My tragedy. But I want to know yours.”
In all honesty, I wasn’t so sure I did. But I felt like I needed to.
My mom used to say the first step in fixing a mistake is admitting you made one.
Brinley was always the first to jump in, and the group just let her.
She pulled her golden-brown marshmallow out of the fire and let it hang limply in front of her, eyes fixed on the flames.
“Last year,” she said softly, “I thought my boyfriend, Liam, was going to propose. But out of the blue, he tells me it’s just not working. That he needs to move on.”
She paused, the firelight catching the sadness in her smile.
“This after months of telling me we were soulmates. And it felt like that. Love at first sight. You know—after he saved me from literally falling off a cliff in Hawaii while I was taking a selfie for the resort that sponsored me.”
She smiled again, wistfully. It appeared that those memories still meant a lot to her, even through the ache.
“Have you ever just met someone and knew?” she asked.
I shifted uncomfortably.
Because yes—I knew what that felt like. Or thought I had. The jury was still out on whether that feeling had been real. My guess? Probably not. But doubt had crept in, and it was getting louder. What made me more uncomfortable wasknowing it was me and my rule book that had ruined Brinley’s relationship.
Love at first sight, dangerous circumstances, dramatic rescues—those were automatic denials. Statistically speaking, those kinds of relationships were doomed. And I could practically guarantee there had been a lot of grand gestures involved.
I swallowed hard, guilt consuming my chest like a forest fire.
It didn’t help when Jessica threw her arms around Brinley.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry—we’re like twinsies. My Asher just up and left me last year too. No warning. I’ve never cried so hard.” She sniffled, eyes glassy. “Funny thing is, we used to hate each other. But one day it was like I couldn’t live without him.”
“Enemies to lovers,” I murmured. “I mean . . . that can be tricky,” I added, trying to assuage my guilt for dooming the trope. Because, again—research showed that while enemies to lovers was great in books and on-screen, it didn’t translate all that well in real life. Too much volatility.
Jessica turned toward me, tears streaking her cheeks.
“It was tricky. We hardly agreed on anything—especially politics. But somehow we made it work. It was worth it. Worth trying to see his side of things, and for him to see mine.”
She paused, voice cracking.
“I guess . . . until it wasn’t for him.”
“Girl, I can totally relate.” Paloma wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders, her voice lowering. “Theo—my ex—told me what we had wasn’t worth fighting for anymore.” She hesitated, cheeks flushed. “He was my captain,” sheadmitted, a little abashed. “It was against the rules for us to be seeing each other, but it’s hard to fight feelings that strong. You know?”
Everyone nodded. Except Cassie and me.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Paloma added, fanning herself with one hand. “The sneaking around wassohot.” She paused, her voice tightening. “But Theo got tired of the risk. Or maybe . . . just tired of me.”
It was official. I was a monster. A horrible goddess of love who did nothing but deny people the very thing I was supposed to protect.
Sure, workplace romance wasn’t exactly a good idea—especially among firefighters. And he was her superior. Can you say HR nightmare? Not to mention the PR disaster if something went wrong during an emergency and someone traced it back to their relationship.
But still. She’d loved him. And I’d ruined it.
“Do you still work with him?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she breathed out. “It’s awkward as hell. Torturous, even. That’s why I took a sabbatical and signed up for this show. I just hope I can find someone new. Move on with my life.”
See, workplace romance was never a good idea. Well . . . maybeneverwas too strong. I was questioning all my rules now. And the divine voice inside of me? She was thrilled about it. She wanted to fix everything I’d broken.
