There it was. The real reason.
“No.”
“Di—”
“No.” The word came out clean. Certain. Not angry, not bitter—just clear. “We’re done, Todd. We’ve been done for five years.”
“I know I wasn’t good to you. I’ve been in therapy. I’ve changed?—”
“I’m glad you’ve changed. I mean that. But I don’t want to try again.” I met his eyes. “I don’t love you. I’m not sure I ever really did. I picked you because you felt safe, and then I spent five years making myself smaller to fit what you wanted, and it still wasn’t enough. That’s not love. That’s just fear.”
He flinched. But he didn’t argue.
“Is there someone else?”
I thought about Marcus. His grumpiness. His grief. The way he made me tea without asking. The way he’d looked when Greg interrupted our almost kiss.
“There’s someone I’m trying not to lose.”
Todd nodded slowly. Something shifted in his face—the desperate, magic-driven need fading, replaced by something quieter. Resignation, maybe. Or release.
“Then don’t let him get away.” He stepped back from the door. “For what it’s worth—I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“I know.”
He turned and walked away. And as he did, I felt something shift in the air—a door closing, not just physically but somewhere deeper. Like the magic had needed this. Needed me to say no to his face, to close this possibility once and for all.
My phone buzzed. I glanced at it.
The match count had dropped. 5,847 to 5,846.
One down. Thousands to go.
But it was a start.
Cassie found me an hour later,sitting on my kitchen floor while the three time-displaced men watched a documentary about disco that Greg had somehow found on my TV.
“Rough day?” She sat down next to me, back against the refrigerator.
“Todd was here. The real one.”
“Oh.” She processed that. “What did he want?”
“To try again.” I pulled my knees up to my chest. “He drove three states. Said he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop thinking about me. The magic was pulling him.”
“What did you say?”
“No.” I stared at my hands. “I told him I didn’t love him. That I picked him because he felt safe, not because he was right. And when I said it—when I really meant it—something shifted. The match count dropped by one.”
“The magic needed you to close that door in person.”
“I think so.” I exhaled. “He asked if there was someone else. I told him there was someone I was trying not to lose.”
“Marcus?”
“Marcus.” The name came out soft. “Todd told me to stop running and go get him. Which is ironic life advice from my ex-husband, but he’s not wrong.”
“So what are you going to do?”
