"I can't catch feelings. I can't," she insisted, hoping more caffeine would hold the key to what she should do next. "He's the bride's brother. He has dimples and a magnetic spice rack, Shelby."
"Oh no. A spice rack?" Shelby gasped, overdramatic. "Someone fetch the elopement schedule; it is time to panic."
Piper set the mug down, not even caring about a coaster.
Then she flopped sideways, covering her face with the throw blanket. "It was everything I can't have."
Shelby pulled the blanket down and then moved the mug to a coaster for her. "You mean… warm, respectful, great in bed, and very emotionally present?"
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
"The point is," Piper said, sitting up, "I need to refocus. Anna's wedding—remember that whole career thing? The one that doesn't involve admitting I have the emotional bandwidth of a charging battery still at 2%?"
Shelby scoffed. "You didn't get caught up. Girl, you dove right in."
"And that's exactly how you drown."
Shelby eyed her. "Or it's how you plan. With intention. With heart."
Piper wasn't buying it, and Shelby could clearly tell.
"There's no curse, Piper. That's a story you use to stay safe."
Piper didn't answer.
Not out loud.
And Shelby didn't force the issue. But twenty minutes later, when Shelby headed to her shift, Piper opened her laptop and Googled:
Signs you're the problem in relationships
Then:
How to break a curse without a priest
Then:
Is emotional sabotage genetic?
She clicked into a wellness blog post titled: You're Not Cursed, You're Attracted to Anarchy.
She noped right out of that browser window. On that note, she slammed the laptop shut. She was officially allergic to optimism. Especially the kind cross-contaminated with internet self-help blogs and almond-laced edible glitter.
And as if the universe didn't love irony, her phone buzzed.
Zach: Hey. My family has a dinner thing tonight to celebrate Anna and Drake's engagement being official. You should come. Low-key. A good chance to talk to Anna and Drake sans Tess.
The typing dots teased for a moment.
Zach: And yes, I want you there. That's part of it too.
She started to type thank you, no.
Except this was a moment. A choice. A step.
Can we have sex after? she typed automatically.
