Page 46 of The Cupid Chronicles

I continue to stare at the floor. There’s a chunk of tomato under the sink. Someone missed it when they were cleaning.

“Look, life kicked you in the gut. And me too—she was my best friend.” Her voice shakes. I fight to hold back emotion, and this is exactly why I hate talking about this.

“I loved her too. She was . . .” She stops and shakes her head. “My point is, you’re still here, and I’m still here, and I think it’s okay to believe that Aria would want both of us to be happy and have good lives. You, especially. It’s okay to move on.”

Is it?

Is it okay?

My defenses kick up, and the wall slams down.

My eyes flick up to hers. “I love you, Nic, and I appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m good. Really.”

I’m not.

We both know it.

But I’m not interested in “moving on.”

Loving someone the way I loved Aria isn’t only unlikely—it’s impossible. I won’t entertain even the possibility, because I can’t think of anything that would dishonor her more than trying to replace her.

Life didn’t just kick me in the gut. It hollowed me out.

And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure I never feel pain like that again.

Chapter Fourteen

Iris

*THWAP*

“Ow! ComeON?—”

I barely force my eyes to focus through the sleep still in them long enough to see a disappearing wisp of golden shimmer.

I whip the covers off and yell, “It’s not nice to bully people, you know!!” at the ceiling.

A tinkle of chimes.

“And I can hear sarcasm in those chimes!”

I rub my forehead, grumpy. It’s the day after dinner at Winnie’s, and thanks to my new surprise alarm clock, I feel instantly on edge.

Stupid magic. Stupid newspaper.

As I’m getting ready for work, I open every door to every room, cabinet, fridge, and vanity carefully, like I’m expecting a mass of newspapers to come rushing out.

But nothing happens.

I carefully open the door to my apartment and quickly look down, slightly relieved and a little disappointed when it’s just a mat.

“Quit messing with me,” I huff at no one.

I stare down the hallway, almost wishing I had a reason to walk down to Matteo’s door and knock.

The truth is—and I’m only admitting this silently because no one else needs to know—I spent most of last night watchingProject Runwayreruns and crocheting a new stuffed jellyfish.

And thinking about Matteo.

---