Page 78 of Detectives in Love
Katie rolls her eyes. “Joe and I broke up right after high school. And I never really planned on marrying him anyway.”
“Really?” I lift a brow.
“Yeah. He talked about dead people too much,” she says, smirking.
I laugh—almost surprised it sounds real. But judging by the way Katie smiles, I guess it passes.
“Well, it’d be strange to expect a high school boyfriend to stick around forever,” she says lightly, but then something shifts in her expression. Just for a second, I can tell she’s thinking about us—what almost was. She clears her throat.
“Didn’t you always say you’d live in the countryside with a wife and kids?”
I snort. “Sure. But I don’t think I ever actually meant it.” And I didn’t. I only said it because that’s what everyone expected.
“So no dreams of a white picket fence?” Katie raises an eyebrow.
“No, I don’t think so.”
And then—uninvited—Xavier slips into my mind again. A cozy house, quiet mornings, cats and dogs padding through the rooms. Something domestic. Something steady. The kind of future I never let myself believe in. The kind I feel like I somehow lost today.
The waitress returns with coffee and croissants, setting down butter and honey on the side. Katie and I slip into old memories—high school days, crowding into this very café with half our class, loud and overdressed and pretending we weren’t freezing. I tell her about running into Fred Collins the other day, and we laugh at how random it was—like the universe decided to throw all of us back into the same room again.
We spend the next hour digging through the past, howling over our doomed first (and only) date back in eleventh grade—that ridiculous amusement park trip in the middle of a thunderstorm. One story leads to another, and soon we’re laughing over all kinds of forgotten nonsense, the kind of stuff only two teenagers would think mattered.
Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “Ever wish you could change the past?”
I shrug. “Not really. You?”
“Nah.” She meets my eyes. “I think everything happens for a reason, you know? Even the small stuff. What you eat for breakfast, some ad you scroll past, a movie you half-watch… It all adds up, shapes who we are. Change any of it, and maybe we’re not the same people anymore.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I mean—I want to believe that. That life’s not just a mess of random moments that lead nowhere. Because otherwise…” I trail off. “Yeah. It’d be too depressing.”
Katie laughs—and then I realize she’s about to kiss me.
I see it just seconds before it happens. She leans in, tilts her head slightly, holds my gaze just a second too long… and then her eyes flick to my lips. It’s a textbook move. I know it’s my cue to lean in, to close the gap. But I don’t. I freeze. My eyes drop to her scarlet mouth.
She takes my hesitation for permission, closes the distance, and kisses me. Her lips are warm, soft, familiar—and completely wrong. Her eyes flutter shut, one hand rising to gently cup my cheek.
But I stay still. Eyes open. Like I’ve just been doused in ice water. Every part of me pulls away. It feels wrong.
This is the girl I spent most of high school pining after—and all I can think about is someone else. That arrogant, impossible detective I was with just this morning. The one who asked me to stay the night. Who fell asleep in my arms like he meant it. And who, hours later, made me feel like a joke for asking one honest question.
I wish I’d had the guts to kiss him instead. Maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck like this, eaten alive by feelings I can’t shake.
“Sorry,” I mutter, pulling back.
Katie’s eyes flutter open.
“Shit,” she whispers, hand dropping, cheeks flushing bright red. “God, I’m so sorry. There’s someone else, isn’t there?” She winces. “I didn’t know…I—I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
“It’s fine,” I say, meeting her eyes, resisting the urge to wipe my mouth. “I should’ve told you.”
“I didn’t see a ring, so I thought—” Katie’s cheeks flush deeper. “God, I feel awful. You must think I’m so stupid…” Her voice trails off.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Not at all.”
We both go quiet for a moment. Katie clears her throat.
“Oh my god. I feel horrible.”
