Page 14 of The Break-Up Pact

Levi’s concerned eyes turn from me to Sana. “About what?”

Sana clears her throat and begins another version of her elevator pitch.

“Okay, so here’s the thing, Revenge Ex #2. Can I call you Revenge Ex #2? Good, because it’s got a ring to it.” Sana spreads her arms out as if she is painting a picture for Levi in the air between us. “Imagine this. The two of you go on a bunch of sickeningly adorable fake dates. June keeps this absurd scone momentum going, and hooray! Saves Tea Tide. You both show your exes what they’re missing, because hot damn to you both. And I make a quick chunk of change as your exclusive photographer so I can use my valuable time working on pitches. Everybody thrives, everybody stays hot, and everybody scams free scones off June.”

“Forgive her,” I say, before Levi’s brain can combust. “She’s had, like, ten cups of oolong.”

But Levi absorbs all of this with ease.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m in.”

My mouth drops open.

“Wait. Levi, I appreciate it. But my situation is not that dire. I’ll figure out a way to get the money for Tea Tide without us milking this,” I say in a rush.

Levi looks away. “I know that. And I do want to help Tea Tide.” He delivers the next words more to my newly mopped floor than to either of us. “But I think this would also help the situation with Kelly.”

I don’t answer for a moment, only because I am struggling to figure out an interpretation of “situation” that doesn’t equate to “Kelly seems like she is taking advantage of all the best parts of you, and it makes me feel sick.”

And even if that weren’t an element at play, I don’t want Levi going along with this plan for my sake. I’ve prided myself on being able to keep Tea Tide’s lights on all on my own. Sure, it isn’t quite what I’d hoped it would be—not the cozy neighborhood spot I envisioned. One that became so beloved here that maybe someday I’d even be able to open locations in other seaside towns, shaped by their own communities.

But I can still get there. Once we get past these huge rushes of people and I have a chance to breathe, it can be less of a circus and more of the homey, safe place I imagined. And I don’t want Levi thinking I need his help to do it.

In the end, I compromise by asking, “Are you sure that’s a situation you want… resolved?”

Levi won’t look at either of us. “I think it might help her remember what we have together, if she thinks she could actually lose it.”

The hurt in me is so acute, so immediate, that I don’t know how to place it. Or maybe it’s just that it feels closer to jealousy than I’m willing to admit.

My eyes search for Levi’s, hoping to get to the bottom of the feeling—to reassure myself that it’s just a knee-jerk reaction, a symptom of us knowing each other for so long. But his gaze is still aimed firmly at the ground. Instead, my eyes land on Sana’s. Hers go wide enough that I know she didn’t miss the moment of weakness in mine.

She takes a breath, and I know she’s using it to call this whole thing off. She desperately wants out of the freelance grind, but not at my expense.

But she’s right. This idea she’s proposing—it is objectively the best option for all of us. I’ll get three months’ worth of rent before the end of this one. Sana will get cash to float herself while she polishes her pieces. Levi will get back the woman he loves.

And I will stuff this unwelcome hurt so far back into a “return to sender” box that I won’t even remember opening it.

I put my hands on the backs of one of the chairs as if to root myself. “Let’s do it, then.”

My voice is so firm that Levi looks up in surprise. “Yeah?”

Now it’s Levi searching my face. I nod quietly at him. The concern in his eyes mingles with a gratitude and a relief so intense that it calms my lingering doubt. In fact, when I catch Sana’s gaze and we exchange small smirks, I feel a quick but undeniable jolt—this could be fun.

“Yeah,” I say gamely. “The universe messed with us enough these past few weeks. We deserve to mess with it right back.”

“Then it’s settled. Excellent.” Sana scowls at her phone, then jumps up from her perch on the counter to start collecting her stuff. “I have a deadline. But you two should talk logistics.”

Levi’s brow puckers. “We just did.”

I nod quickly. “All set.”

Sana frowns right back, looking at Levi and then at me. “Haven’t the two of you ever watched a rom-com before? If you’re going for the fake dating trope, you’ll need a plan. You’ll need rules.”

Off our blank looks, Sana heaves a long-suffering sigh and sets her backpack down.

“You need to decide what kind of Instagram-bait outings you’ll take together. What you’ll say when people inevitably ask you questions about each other. Plus, like, protocol on the actual romantic bits.” Sana starts listing off intimate gestures with the nonchalance of someone who has orchestrated a dozen other relationship ruses. “Hand-holding, snuggling, kissing, getting all lovey-dovey. If there’s anything on or off the table, you’re going to have to include it in this break-up pact of yours.”

My cheeks flush. At some point in Sana’s little lecture, I stopped listening and started imagining. The warmth of Levi’s broad hand in mine. The way it might feel to burrow myself against him, breathing in the crook of his neck. What he might taste like, where his hands might wander, if we actually kissed.

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