Page 114 of The Cupid Chronicles

“It sucked,” I say. “It was like running through a crowd of people wearing nothing but an apron and having it broadcast on the internet.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Nicola says.

“Recurring nightmare,” I say with a shrug. “But she was great. I mean, really great. I know she felt bad for me, but not in a pathetic way. It was like, all about me—not about her.”

Val groans. “Sad how many people don’t get that.”

“Remember Elise?” Nicola’s eyes go wide.

Val and I both groan.

“Who could forget?” Val says.

Elise was the first and last straw. She found out about Aria and decided to make a plan so she could “bring me back to life.” She wanted to document our entire relationship on social media and turn my pain into a launch for her “counseling” business.

Never mind that she had no education, apparently just putting it on social media makes you an expert.

“So,” Val says. “How are you feeling now?”

“Actually? Fine.”

Not fine.

I pull out a large pot and fill it with water.

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” Val asks.

“Good lord, yes.” I flick off the faucet and drop my head. “So bad.”

They jump into high gear, both of them poised and ready for action. Whatever problem I’m having, they’re going to solve it.

“What’s the problem? The main problem?” Nicola asks.

I set the pot on the stove and turn on the burner. “You know the main problem.” I look at Nicola, then at Val. “I don’t know if I can do this again.”

“Look, it’s totally normal to be wary,” Val says. “Anyone in your position would be.”

“But Iris is good. And goodforyou,” Nicola says. “She makes you smile. Smiling is not your default setting.”

I shoot her a look.

“Stop proving my point,” she quips.

“Plus,” Val says, “When you’re around her, you seem lighter. Happier.”

“Last week you came out andtalkedto the customers,” Nic chimes in. “You haven’t willingly done that in years.”

The door swings open, and Dante walks in, freezing at the sight of the three of us just standing there. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.” Nicola raises her eyebrows. “And you owe me twenty bucks.”

His face lights up. “Yeah! Get it, Chef!”

“Go back to work, Dante,” I say, a little sharper than I intend to. He doesn’t seem fazed. He gives me a peace sign and hits it on his chest twice as he backs out of the room.

“What does that even mean?” I frustratingly ask.

They both shrug, shaking their heads.

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