“Then what gives with this Hail Mary relationship move?”
I frowned at the back of Wells’s head. He stood next in line for the TSA stand. The past week I’d gleefully envisioned as getting ready for the trip had blown way off course into an emotional shipwreck. I’d postponed my meeting with Yvonne after Wells had dropped the Soulmail bombshell in my lap. And then after work that day, Wells and I’d met to talk about what all this might mean, but we wound up arguing about Cambrey until it was so late that Dola had hidden a special tape in my hair the next morning to lift my eye bags. Tuesday, I’d accidentally ignored texts from both Natalie and Caleb because Wells and I had argued via text from post-work through midnight about what to do about our goddamn wedding.
On Wednesday morning, my new doorman, Hank, handed me an all-too-familiar Honey O’s box top. I’M SORRY. YOU’RE RIGHT, it read.
And then last night, we agreed to meet to discuss what might change now that we were soulmated. I’d privately resolved to take the weekend to think about things, but as we split a cast-iron pan of mussels in a lobster broth and a warm baguette, I’d mentioned the trip.
Wells’s eyes had flickered. “I’d love to come,” he said. “No pressure.”
I’d hesitated. Natalie would be furious, and Caleb... every time I thought of him, I was full of longing. Confusion. And something else, too, something I didn’t want to admit.
Desire.
“Look,” Wells said. “Wherever we go from here—we have this evidence of something valuable between us. If the weekend is too much, just say the word. I’ll stay out of your way.” He passed me the bread. “But I’d love to see your parents.”
I’d rested my chin on top of my fist. “I’m not so sure that feeling is mutual,” I said. “They’re pretty mad at you. And so am I.”
But as slick mussel shells clattered onto our porcelain plates, he’d made me laugh twice. Beneath my simmering anger my body remembered his. Physical attraction had never been our weakness. My life was in the kind of disarray that was uncontrollable, and if Wells was my confirmed soulmate, I’d have to consider what that meant for my future. So I’d thought, why not?
Now I grimaced as Wells fist-bumped the TSA agent. He’d missed his precheck renewal because I was in charge of our travel, a piece of information that had, prior to now, been exhilarating.
Caleb stepped ahead. He wore a thin T-shirt and nondescript jeans, his dark hair rumpled and his shadow at least at six o’clock. I couldn’t figure out why his last visit had rattled me so much. Why this childhood friend touching my scar had knocked some other feelings loose. I tore my focus from him, which probably ranked on the top-ten list of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do in my life. “A strange turn of events.”
“The tension between you and Caleb is exquisite.” Natalie frowned.
“There’s nothing between us,” I murmured. “Except history.”I sighed. “My fate’s been decided for me, along with the rest of the world.”
We paused, studying Caleb and Wells as they trekked toward the airport bins. A backpack was slung over Caleb’s shoulders, and he kept capping and uncapping an AirPods case. A few feet behind him, Wells was clean-shaven and dressed in a “summer light” sweater for travel, like his father always wore.
When I’d texted Caleb last night—hey, long story, but Wells is coming too—he’d taken forever to respond. Finally, he wrote:I’m a museum curator. Have I mentioned I’m only employed because of long stories?
Natalie cleared her throat. “My mother is losing her shit via text.”
“I’m losing mine via reality,” I said, passing my license to the TSA agent.
He flipped between the ID and my face. “Hey!” he said, his volume suddenly booming. “You’re the Soulmail star! My wife and I love you.” He scanned my barcode. “My wife is my Soulmail-mate,” he added.
“Oh,” I said, flushing. “That’s great. Thanks for watching.”
“We both think you should have your own show. I’d ask you for a picture, but my boss would fire me.” He tipped his head toward a uniformed agent behind him.
Wells circled our way, draping his arm around my shoulders. Caleb trailed behind him. Wells knew of Caleb as a kid I’d lost touch with; Caleb knew Wells as The Guy Who’d Cheated On His Old Best Friend. I was looking forward to this weekend the way children anticipate a flu shot. “She’d be great on her own show, wouldn’t she?” Wells said.
“What would your boss say ifIaskedyoufor a picture?” Before the agent could react, I slipped from beneath Wells’s arm. I handed my phone to Caleb. As I smiled at the lens, I tried to send him ESP.This isn’t what I thought. It isn’t what I want.
But when he handed it back, he didn’t answer:I know. He didn’t say anything at all.
The TSA agent beamed. “The wife’s gonna love this one. Safe travels, Miss Adler and friends.”
Despite the journey through security, we were early to the gate. Wells adjusted his silver and gold watch. “Wanna hit up the Amex lounge?”
“Oh, goodie, you pay to have a platinum credit card, too,” Natalie said. “Come on. The airline lounge has better snacks.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Caleb said, fishing his AirPods case from the pocket of his jeans. “I forgot my charger.”
“I need more Altoids,” I blurted.
“I can get them!” Wells moved to lunge toward a kiosk, passing a banner that read HAVEN’T MET YOUR SOULMATE YET? ENTER TO WIN A FREE FLIGHT TO MAKE YOUR DREAM COME TRUE TODAY!
