Olivia #2
“I mean…the obvious,” I say. “You aren’t exactly known for being romantic.”
“Interesting. What am I known for?” he asks.
I should tread lightly. I should see the warning signs because the way I answer that question could threaten this entire situation. And yet…would it really be so bad if the sand castle we’ve been building crumbled?
Would it really be that bad to start over?
“You have a reputation for casual dating,” I choose the wording as delicately as possible.
“I see. So I’m a man whore,” he states, and honestly, it catches me so off guard I nearly choke on my own spit.
“I didn’t say that,” I shake my head.
“But people do say it. I know they do,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t really care.”
I study Luca for a moment. It’s kind of funny. The way he says it, his easy expression and relaxed body, all of it tells me his words are true. He doesn’t care. And anyone that nonchalant about an accusation as aggressive as that must be pretty confident in who they know themselves to be.
In other words…not a catfish.
I nod thoughtfully. “You still haven’t answered my original question though,” I say. “Why dating apps? You admitted that your parent’s relationship made you lose faith in romance.”
Luca studies me with a small smile. “You’re right. I chose online dating because my parents didn’t have access to it when they met,” he says.
“They met organically,” I say, loving that his answer is in support of my beliefs but not understanding why.
“They did. Which is why their relationship failed.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I snort.
“My parent’s relationship was perfect,” he explains. “Love at first sight, young, romantic, carefree. They met at a pop-up carnival in Chatham to give you an idea.”
“That’s cute,” I say carefully because I can’t figure out where this is going, but his tone tells me it’s nowhere good.
“And for years it was just that. Picturesque. Family dinners, game nights, laughter and dancing, and handling the hard things with smiles. And then it fell apart,” he says.
“Fell apart how?” I ask.
“I found out it was all a lie,” he says, and I am quiet while I wait for him to explain. “My mom cheated on my dad.”
“Oh,” I let out softly.
“Not just cheated. But had been cheating. For the majority of their relationship. It was so bad, in fact, that at one point my dad demanded a paternity test. Luckily, it was positive. But they were still destroyed. Everything was.”
“That’s awful,” I say. Then I bite my lip hesitantly. “But…I don’t really understand why a fateful, real-life meet-cute is to blame for that. It could happen to anyone.”
“It could,” he agrees. “But it’s more likely to happen when two people aren’t right for each other. When they aren’t who the other person was led to believe.”
“You think they were wrong for each other?” I ask.
“Of course. Why else would she cheat?” he asks.
“People make mistakes,” I answer, but he cuts back in.
“A mistake would be one time. Not all the time. The signs were there. Sure, she acted happy. But really, she was just safe. He loved her. He gave her the life he thought she wanted. But the life she really wanted, she was living on the side. A life that didn’t include my dad or even me,” he says, and my heart cracks in my chest.
“I’m sure she loves you, Luca,” I say softly.
“I’m sure she does, too. But it doesn’t mean she didn’t betray us.”
“I still don’t understand,” I tell him.
“They thought they were right for each other and could be happy and successful for each other because they had a serendipitous meeting. Because they had a connection and chemistry, and it was fate and all that. When in reality, they were lonely and attracted to each other and volatile and got married and pregnant before knowing whether they were compatible,” Luca says matter-of-factly.
There is little to no emotion behind it, though if I had to guess, he doesn’t often talk about any of this.
The dots are connecting, and it’s all finally starting to make sense.
“So…you believe that if a dating app had been involved, their relationship would have been different and she wouldn’t have cheated?” I ask.
“If the right tools, call it an app if you want, and studied algorithms based on human compatibility had been available and properly implemented, I don’t think they would have matched at all.
Which, in their case, would have been the right call,” he says and honestly, I don’t know whether to be offended or sad.
“I see,” I nod.
“You don’t like that answer, do you?” he asks.
“I mean…we certainly have different opinions on love,” I state.
Luca swims towards me, stopping in front of me.
“Do we?” he asks gruffly. “Because I think we believe the same things about love. Real love. Love that lasts and works and doesn’t ruin lives. We just have different opinions on how two people find that love.”
“I just don’t think a computer should be trusted to figure out that kind of thing,” I say, suddenly feeling very, very hot.
“But you’d leave it up to the universe?” He says with a hint of mockery that I decide not to take personally.
“No,” I shake my head. “I leave it up to the heart.”
“You don’t believe hearts lie?” he asks. He is so close to me that if I wanted to, if I let myself, I could kiss him.
“I believe that hearts are optimistic,” I answer, doing my best to stay on subject.
Luca’s lips tip in the slightest smile. “Until they’re broken. Then they recluse. Protect themselves. They turn to reason.”
“Until they meet the person who persuades them to believe in love again,” I say, and for a moment we just stare at each other, the static between us almost hotter than the water we are sitting in.
Unmatched Dating 101- Rule #8: Trust your gut. Your heart can be wishy-washy. The universe is hard to read. But your gut, especially in reference to soulmates, doesn’t lie.