Page 119 of The Cupid Chronicles

I look at the newspaper.

And one last thought occurs to me.

I stand, wipe my eyes, and walk down to Matteo’s apartment.

Matteo

Iris is standing outside my door.

I’ve only been home for a few minutes, but I can see her through the peephole.

My heart swells at the sight of her.

Man, I miss her.

But it’s not fair. It’s not fair to her for me to have so many conflicting feelings while we’re together. She deserves better than this. To be with someone who isn’t carrying a load of baggage. I just . . . haven’t found the courage to tell her yet.

When I open the door, she looks up at me, and I can tell she’s been crying.

I look away. I’m such a jerk. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, I?—”

But she holds up a hand, and I go quiet.

“I’m not here to make you feel bad or anything.” She stands. “Just to let you know that I’m not going away. I understand you need space, and I will give that to you.” She presses her lips together, and I can see her determination behind her eyes.

“I know that for a lot of people, I’m too much. I get it. And maybe me telling you that I’ve hated not being with you the last couple days is going to feel smothering or annoying. But I don’t care. Because I have hated it. I also hate that you’re hurting. And I hate that you won’t let me help.”

“Iris—”

“Just let me finish.”

I nod.

“I think you’re amazing,” she says. “And I think this terrible, awful thing happened to you. And you didn’t deserve it. No one deserves something like that.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “And I know you’re scared.”

The words are like a drill, straight to my heart.

“I’m scared too,” she says. “And I think because I was scared, I held myself back. I did what I thought you would want instead of what I want, which is to be here for you. I don’t want to give you space. I want to be a sounding board and a safe place for you to sort through the messy, awfulfeelings you don’t share with anyone else. And wanting that has gotten me in trouble in the past.” She presses her lips together and inhales a slow breath. “But you’re the one who told me that for the right person, I won’t be too much.”

I look down and see that she’s holding a newspaper in her hand. I didn’t notice that before.

“And these past few months have been . . .” She laughs. “The mostmagicalof my entire life. Not just because we helped all those people, not just because friends found each other or a dog got a new home, but because this”—she holds up the newspaper—“this . . . brought meyou.”

I don’t say anything because I’m afraid if I do, my voice will crack. I think I am finally beginning to understand what magic really feels like.

“So, I guess, what I’m saying is . . .” She steels her jaw. “You need to figure out if I’m the right person. You need to decide if I’m too much. Because even though I know I have a lot of flaws, loving people too deeply isn’t one of them.” She goes quiet, and I want to reach for her. To pull her straight to my chest and hold her until the sun comes up tomorrow.

And every single day that follows.

But she doesn’t give me the chance.

She looks at me for a long moment, nods a period on this conversation, and then she walks away.

I just stand and watch her walk back to her apartment and close the door.

I stand there, dumbly, wanting to go after her, but still so conflicted over the strange feelings seeing Aria’s mom brought to the surface.

Sadness. Guilt. Grief.

---