Page 88 of The Slug Crystal
The pastry disintegrates completely in my grip. A drop of moisture lands on the back of my hand. It’s not coffee, but a tear I didn't realize had escaped. I stare at it, betrayed by my own emotions.
"Or 'Shell Game: Five Humans, One Snail, No Winners,'" Jake offers, his voice gentler now, though he hasn't noticed my shift in mood.
Marco is the first to pick up on my distress, his scholarly observation finally turning in my direction. His smile fades, replaced by a frown of concern. "Emma? Are you alright?"
Four pairs of eyes swing toward me, laughter dying as they register my expression, the crumbled pastry, the wetness on my cheeks that I can no longer hide.
"What if we already missed our chance?" I ask quietly, voicing the fear that's been growing since Venice. "What if the longer he stays a snail, the more he... becomes one? What if the human part is already gone?"
No one answers immediately. The morning sunlight continues its relentless advance across the table, illuminating dust motes that dance whimsically across the air like physical manifestations of our uncertainty. Alex continues his exploration, blissfully oblivious to the debate about his fate.
"We don't know that," Jake finally says, his hand finding my leg beneath the table. His palm is warm against my skin, his touch grounding me as it always does. "We keep searching for Sarah. We keep trying. And we..." He hesitates, glancing at the others before continuing. "We make the best of this situation in the meantime."
"The situation where my ex-boyfriend is a snail, or the situation where I'm involved with four men at once?" I ask, aiming for humor, though it falls slightly flat.
"Both, I suppose," Marco answers with unexpected lightness. "Though I suspect one situation is significantly more unprecedented than the other."
"Statistically speaking," Ben adds with a wink.
Luca raises his espresso cup in a mock toast. "To unprecedented situations and their unexpected benefits."
I hiccup, trying to smile while my eyes still feel wet and my heart still feels like it’s breaking.
"Emma," Jake says softly, his hand reaching for mine.
I stare at the blue snail in his glass house, at the creature that used to be a man I dated. But looking at him just makes it worse. The tears come faster, impossible to stop, as weeks of guilt and stress finally breach the dam I've built around them.
"I didn't mean to curse him!" The words explode from me,followed immediately by a wet, hiccupping sob that silences every man at the table. My hands shake violently, sending pastry crumbs cascading across the polished wood. "I was just mad and drunk, and it wasn’t supposed to work, and now I'm feeding my ex cucumbers as a treat, out of guilt!" Tears stream down my face unchecked, hot trails of shame and regret. The villa's bright kitchen blurs around me, the morning light suddenly too harsh, too revealing of the mess I've become.
The joking atmosphere evaporates instantly, replaced by a heavy silence broken only by my ragged breathing. I try to wipe away the tears with trembling fingers, but they come too fast.
"I just wanted him to feel small for one day," I continue, words tumbling out between sobs. "Not actually become small. Not lose his job, his apartment, his life. Not get stuck in a glass box watching me... watching us..." I gesture helplessly at the four men around the table, at the tangle of connections we've formed while Alex has been trapped in his spiral prison. "I ruined his life over a stupid break-up."
Ben's green eyes are wide with genuine concern. Luca sets down his espresso cup with deliberate care, all traces of casual nonchalance gone from his posture. Marco removes his glasses, cleaning them methodically on his shirt hem, a nervous habit I've come to recognize when he's processing emotional situations. And Jake, steady, reliable Jake, stands up and kneels in front of me, placing a palm on each of my knees.
"Emma," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "You didn't know the crystal would actually work. No one could have predicted this."
"But I should be focusing on fixing him," I insist, voice breaking. "Instead, I've been... distracted. What kind of person does that make me?"
My eyes fix on Alex's terrarium through a blur of tears.
"A human person," Marco answers, his academic tone softened with unexpected warmth. "One who's been carrying an impossible burden while navigating an unprecedented situation."
"You haven't abandoned him," Luca adds, leaning forward. "We've crossed half of Italy searching for a solution. That's hardly neglect."
"And maybe..." Ben hesitates, uncharacteristically serious. "Maybe connections with people aren't distractions. Maybe they're how we survive impossible situations."
Fresh tears spill at their kindness, at the absence of judgment I expected but don't deserve. Jake's thumb traces gentle circles on my leg, a steady rhythm that gradually helps calm my breathing. "I'll be on snail duty for a few days so you can breathe," he offers, his blue eyes holding mine with such tenderness that my chest aches. "We've got you, Emma. You’re not in this alone."
The simple offer loosens something tight within me. My shoulders release their tightness slightly, and I manage a watery smile.
"We all will," Luca confirms, looking surprisingly resolute. "Operation Snail Watch. We'll create a schedule."
"I've already been documenting his dietary preferences and activity patterns," Marco adds, tapping his tablet. "It would be simple to expand the observation parameters."
"And I'll handle the entertainment portion of his care," Ben volunteers with a hint of his usual humor returning. "Every snail needs a little excitement. Maybe tiny obstacle courses. Snail parkour."
A wet laugh escapes me, the knot in my chest loosening further. "You guys are ridiculous. And... thank you."
