The server—KESS, per her nametag—nods approvingly. “Good friend. Keep her.” She heads off, sneakers squeaking.
“She seems nice,” Riya observes.
“Everyone seems nice when you’re desperate for human validation.”
“That’s the spirit.”
My muffin arrives, perfect and golden, but my appetite is theoretical at best. I pick at it while Riya studies me with uncomfortable intensity.
“You know what your problem is?” she says finally.
“Apparently, I’m about to.”
“This isn’t really about Ethan.”
I look up sharply. “What?”
“Hear me out.” She leans forward. “When Ethan said that thing about Miles choosing Harper—why did it hurt so much?”
“Because it was cruel?—”
“No. Why did it hurt YOU so much?” She holds up a hand before I can deflect. “It’s because part of you still believes it. Part of you still thinks Miles saw something fundamentally wrong with you.”
My throat tightens. “Maybe he did.”
“Babe, no.” Riya reaches across the table. “Miles didn’t choose Harper over you. Miles chose the easy lie over dealing with his shit. That’s not about your worth—that’s about his cowardice.”
“But—”
“And until you really believe that, like deep-in-your-bones believe it, you’re going to keep sabotaging things.” Her voice gentles. “You didn’t tell Ethan about the review because you don’t think you deserve good things. So you hold back, waiting for them to leave.”
“That’s not—” But the words die because she’s right.
“Piper, you’re brilliant. Like, intimidatingly smart. You’refunny when you let yourself be. You care so deeply, it scares you. You build apps to help people find love because you believe everyone deserves it—everyone except yourself.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Ry?—”
“I’m not done. You’re the friend who remembers my mom’s birthday. Who stays up debugging my code even when you have your own deadlines. Who takes care of other people’s plants like they’re precious.” She squeezes my hand. “You’re so incredible, Pipes. I just wish you could see it.”
“Why can’t I?” The question comes out broken.
“Because some asshole in college made you feel like you had to earn love by being useful. And now you’re so scared of not being enough that you sabotage things before they can confirm it.”
I tear the muffin in half, watching crumbs scatter. “What if I really like Ethan and already ruined it?”
“Then you start by fixing the real problem—how you see yourself. Not for him. For you.” She steals a piece of muffin. “Besides, that boy is probably sitting in his room right now, hating himself for what he said.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know hurt people don’t say things like that unless they’re bleeding inside.” She pauses. “But that’s his shit to deal with. Yours is learning that you’re worth choosing. That you always were.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
“Yeah, well. The good stuff usually is.”
My phone buzzes. For one wild moment, hope flares—maybe it’s Ethan, maybe he’s ready?—
Miles
