How To Come Between Soulmates (The Aimee Position #1)

Prologue

Aimee

“Hello, beautiful humans. Welcome to this week’s pre-show for The Aimee Position. I’m glad you could join me for the live taping, the only place to hear the unscripted, unfiltered versions of my interviews.

“Today, we’re taping an episode inspired by my brother Ryker.

A few months ago, he packed up his life and moved to be closer to his loves.

That’s right, listeners, he is in love with two people.

His triad had been gaming buddies for years and never realized they could be more.

It took the right catalyst to transform them into a happy throuple. ”

I paused, thinking about how happy Ryker had sounded on our last call.

“But enough about Ryker. I want to hear your unconventional and unexpected love stories. Tell me about the time you were blindsided by the lust you felt for your best friend, or were forever changed by a chance at a polyamorous union. I want all the dirty details.”

I sipped my tea, then rattled off the call-in phone number and instructions on how to connect on social media.

“Remember our guidelines—all callers must be eighteen or older, first names or pseudonyms only, and explicit content is allowed, but please, don’t discuss anything illegal.

Don’t want to get banned from TikTok again! ”

I selected the appropriate sound effect on my tablet, and the “Let’s get into position” jingle played through my headphones.

“Alright, beautiful humans. Line one is open. Who’s ready to share their unexpected love story?”

The first two callers were the podcast equivalent of lukewarm coffee—not terrible enough to throw away, but forgettable.

I maintained my enthusiastic podcast voice, giving thoughtful responses while hoping for more. Some days you get raw, vulnerable stories that make your heart crack open on air. On other days, you get... this.

I hovered over the blinking call indicator on my screen, silently begging the universe for something useful for the final podcast edit.

“Let’s welcome our next caller. This is The Aimee Position. Where are you calling from?”

“Hi.” The voice was female, warm but hesitant, maybe a little nervous. “You can call me M. I’m calling from Vermont.”

“Welcome to the show, M. What’s your unexpected love story?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” she said. “It’s not my love story. It’s the story of two people I care about deeply.”

“Go on.” Meddlers were always interesting callers—equal parts well-meaning and delusional.

“I think they might be soulmates, but they’re needlessly separated, and I’m wondering if there’s anything I can do to help bring them together.”

“Well, other people’s love lives are almost never your business.” I kept my tone light but firm. “That said, I’m intrigued. Tell me more about these supposed soulmates.”

“I’ve known them since I was a teenager,” M said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “One is brilliant, driven, and kind—the type of person who steps in to help, even if it costs him. He’s bisexual, open-minded, and I’m sure he’s in love with his best friend.”

“Brilliant, kind, and hot as fuck?” I asked.

She laughed. “Maybe. Anyway, the best friend is a bit grumpy, and reserved, but he’s also steady, reliable, and he secretly takes care of everyone like they’re family.”

“And is the best friend attracted to men?”

“I don’t know. Not openly, but they were inseparable growing up. People joked they had a psychic link. They always knew what the other was thinking, the kind of people who can communicate everything with just a look.”

“And what happened?” I was genuinely curious now. “Did they have a falling out?”

“One moved to Boston, and whatever happened when he left, well, they stopped talking. In Boston, he built an impressive career, a businessman with a corner office and a designer wardrobe, but every time I see him, I don’t know.

There’s an emptiness.” M sighed. “The other couldn’t leave town because of family obligations.

He took over his family’s inn, became more isolated and stuck in his ways. It’s been years since they talked.”

I leaned back in my chair, considering her words. “Why do you care so much about reuniting these two men? What’s your stake in this?”

“I just...” she paused. “They got me through a dark time, made me believe in love.”

“These two men made you believe? Or was it your own fantasy that gave you hope?”

She huffed. “It’s not just a fantasy! Their friendship taught me that family doesn’t have to be blood. It gave me hope for the future when things were bleak. When I had no one.”

“Ah. Well, if you’re a longtime listener, you know I believe in love. But I also believe that some things aren’t meant to be. You can’t force love when things are too broken to repair.”

“But how can soulmates never talk? They belong together!”

“Mmm.” I tapped my fingers against my desk, choosing my words carefully. “Are you sure you’re not a little in love with one of them yourself? Sometimes we project our desires onto other people’s relationships.”

M’s laugh was genuine and bright. “God, no. I’m not the crushing type. More of a lone wolf. I believe in happy endings for others. Call me a facilitator.”

“Facilitator? That sounds suspiciously like ‘meddler’, doesn’t it?”

“Fine. You got me,” she admitted without remorse.

“But in my defense, I had a front-row seat to their love story. When we were teenagers, the businessman went to college in Boston, while the innkeeper went to school close to home. Every break, when they were reunited, it was like they had barely survived without each other, hadn’t been whole without each other. ”

My heart cracked open a little for these two men, but I had to be practical. “I get it. But here’s my advice, M—and you’re probably not going to like it. You can’t get involved.”

“Ah...” M’s voice turned slightly mischievous. “It’s a little late for that advice. The meddling has already begun.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “Oh my. What did you do?”

“Nothing dramatic. Mr. Boston is in town to help a family member.”

“M, please tell me you’re not the reason that person needs help.”

“Of course not! His sister is pregnant, and the doctor wants her on bed rest! The only thing I did was encourage her to call him, knowing he’d rush into town to help.”

“Right. Does the innkeeper know Boston is back in town?”

“Not exactly.” M sounded a little sheepish. “That’s why I called. I was hoping you could help me with a plan to bring them together.”

I shook my head, amused. “M, I appreciate your romantic heart, but these men are adults with complex histories and feelings that you, despite your close relationship, can’t fully understand.”

“I know.” She didn’t sound deterred. “But sometimes people need a push, don’t they? A chance to see what’s possible?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes that push sends them over a cliff they weren’t ready to jump from. I’m not going to enable your scheming, because I don’t want to make it worse.”

“That’s fair,” M said. “But you should see how they used to look at each other—like they were the only two people in the room. Like they were magnetized towards each other, destined to fall in love.”

“But they were never more than friends?”

“Neither admitted it was romantic, but we all saw it.”

Her wistful voice made me hope, against my better judgment, that her meddling might actually work out.

“Well, M from Vermont, I hope your romantic vision comes true. But remember, be careful what you try to fix; sometimes, fixing other people ends up breaking you.”