“Just make sure you do it at least an hour ahead of time,if you’re going to come,” Caleb said. “The program refreshes hourly, so we give it time to process, confirm, and regenerate the illusion.”
“And we’re told yours was the first entry?” Josef asked Caleb.
He nodded, then cleared his throat before answering. Icringed. “Yes.”
Phoebe pretended to check the paper on the desktop for information she’d definitely memorized. “You’re the pinned number in this project?”
“Uh-huh.”
I willed myself to focus, to trace his dark eyebrows, his curls, the way his throat undulated with every swallow.
“What does your soulmate think about that?”
Caleb paused. Here was my moment of satisfaction. Ipressed my lips together. Phoebe didn’t understand why people wouldn’t open their Soulmails. He’d eviscerate them with something intelligent, yet kind. But he hesitated.
“We should probably ask the more obvious.” Josef half-raised his elbow. “Have you opened yours, Caleb?”
No, I thought.
Caleb straightened. “I have,” he said. “But for the Longevity Project, I entered my name without a soulmate.”
“What?” I cried. “What the hell?”
“Olivia,” Natalie said into my ear. “He never told us that. Oh, my god.”
“I gotta go.” I pressed the red X on my best friend, then I swiped across the screen until I found the folder, where I now had eight-hundred seventy-three notifications, including sixty-seven texts. I steeled myself and opened Caleb’s thread.
Livi, please pick up
My hands balled into fists. He didn’t know the three-call deal.
I’m sorry about the other night
I just saw your TikTok
What happened? Did they force you out?
I called twice... I’m guessing you need some time alone
You’re not going to believe how this morning shakes out, I guess
Caleb didn’t answer my call. I tied my hair up and showered to punt the fog from my mind. Halfway through, I succumbed to the overwhelming urge to go for a run. I’d been so tense the past twenty-four hours that my body felt like it was made of LEGOs. I fantasized about being in a hammock somewhere, palm trees providing the precise level of shade I needed to read a book on some stilted structure above someplace aqua, all hot sun and coconut scents, maybe the Maldives or the Azores, before reality gave me one giant hip-check because I was down one fiancé and one job, an equation that formulated two negative income streams.
After I dried off, I jammed my hat on my head and my feet in my sneakers, then flew down the stairs. I was too jacked up for the elevator bay. I waved to Hank and emerged into the crisp fall air, looking left and right, unsure where to turn, when I saw him.
We locked eyes. He breathed hard, my heart possibly pounding harder. Sweat rimmed the collar of his shirt, and he clenched his suit jacket in his hands.
My mouth trembled. I blinked tears from my eyes. “Who is it?” I asked.
His face fell. “I don’t understand how this could happen.”
I didn’t either. Is this how Josef felt when Marco left him? Probably not, since they had this whole life, and the twins,but... Was I supposed to just crush my feelings like they were parts of a leftover bonfire? It wasn’t fair that I’d loved him since we were kids and might still, and that through some ironic twist, he was bound to fly off into his fated future.
Where were you when, I thought. You’ll remember this: When the man you love had a new soulmate.
Two cabs honked behind him. He stepped toward me, once, twice. He said my name. His face was painted with pain. Up closer, the skin beneath his eyes was dark.
My fingers clenched. I worked to unfurl them.
