Riley
“Just try it,” Christy whines, nudging my shoulder playfully. Her eyes are wide with excitement as she leans in, practically bouncing with anticipation. “Honestly, Carter has never been so happy. Imagine if you got to meet someone, fall in love, and get married…” She trails off, staring dreamily into space, a grin creeping across her face. Suddenly, she hugs herself, her whole body brimming with excitement as if she’s picturing her own personal rom-com montage.
I give her a skeptical look, crossing my arms over my fluffy bathrobe. “Your brother isn’t married yet,” I remind her.
“Exactly,” she says, her face breaking into a smug smile. “Yet.”
I heave an exaggerated sigh, knowing she won’t let up until I cave. “Fine, sign me up. But if I get chopped into tiny pieces, on your head be it.”
I toss my phone to her, and she squeals in delight, expertly thumbing through the app store like she’s done this a thousand times.
“It’s all going to go badly wrong,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as I head to the kitchen to grab a pint of triple chocolate ice cream and two spoons. “Romances like Carter’s don’t come around very often.”
I pull my bathrobe tighter around my pajama-clad body as I wander back to the couch. I love having Christy over, but it seems like I end up doing something impulsive every time she's here. Sometimes, all I want is to melt into the sofa with a pint of ice cream, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls and daydreaming about finding my own Luke Danes—someone dependable, warm, and quietly charming.
“No, they don’t,” Christy says, glancing up from my phone, “but it’s worth a try.”
I let her words sink in, realizing she’s right. I’ve never had a serious relationship, not one that made my heart ache in the best way or felt like forever. Now I’ve finished business school and started building my career, there’s a little empty space in my life that success alone can’t fill. I want that “something more”—the kind you find once in a lifetime. I want someone to celebrate my successes, share lazy Sunday mornings, and walk through life with me as an equal and a witness.
Christy peppers me with questions as she sets up my profile, her thumbs moving furiously over the screen while I shovel spoonfuls of ice cream into my mouth. The rich chocolate flavor is a comfort I’ve come to rely on in the past few lonely years, a small, sweet solace for the quiet nights when it’s just me, my work, and the flickering glow of the TV.
“There!” Christy announces triumphantly, punctuating her last thumb tap on the screen with a proud grin. “Now we wait for someone to chat with you.” She holds my phone expectantly, watching the screen like it’s a magic crystal ball. But the screen remains blank. No chat bubbles, no notifications. She frowns, a slight pout forming on her lips, and hands the phone back to me. “It won’t be long before you’re chasing them away with a stick,” she insists, trying to reassure me.
“Right,” I say with a skeptical smile, rolling my eyes. “Can I put Gilmore Girls on now?”
Christy’s mouth quirks to one side, clearly disappointed that the universe hasn’t yet delivered my soulmate in the first few seconds. Finally, she shrugs, plopping beside me on the sofa, grabbing her spoon, and digging into the ice cream. As the opening credits roll, we sing along to the familiar theme song, our voices blending into an off-key harmony.