Chapter 8
A lex sat stiffly at the corner of the candlelit table, nestled between Georgie and Luke, across from a man who’d already gone through two napkins and was currently sobbing into a monogrammed handkerchief. Nathan.
Nathan sniffled, then let out a mournful honk into the fabric, eyes watery and red.
Alex, phone hidden strategically in her lap, typed a silent cry for help: S.O.S.
"Wow. Nathan. That’s a... sad story," Georgie said with a tight smile.
"Yes, so... sad," Alex echoed, nodding as if the heartbreak was too much to bear instead of, say, excruciatingly awkward.
"Such is life," Nathan sighed, dramatically dabbing his eyes. "Loss is inevitable. And hey, you know what they say..."
"No. What do they say, Nathan?" Alex asked dryly, not even pretending to hide her sarcasm.
A swift kick under the table from Georgie made her wince.
Her phone buzzed with perfect timing. Alex lifted it like a lifeline. "Ooh. I better take this."
She pressed the phone to her ear with the enthusiasm of someone being rescued from a sinking ship. "Hi, Tori. What’s up? I hope everything is okay. You know I am at a very... important... dinner."
Meanwhile, back at The Word Well Bookstore, Tori stood behind the counter with a bowl of popcorn in hand, her expression somewhere between amused and unconvinced.
"Overselling a bit, don’t you think?" Tori replied, popping a kernel into her mouth.
"Oh wow. That sounds... serious," Alex said into the phone, eyes darting toward Nathan, who was now nursing a fresh round of sniffles.
"Oh boy. That bad, huh?" Tori teased, clearly enjoying every second of Alex’s fake conversation with herself.
"You don’t say," Alex replied dramatically, playing along.
"I knew a bowl of popcorn would come in handy. Worse than committee guy?" Tori asked, crunching loudly as if bracing for the answer.
"Worse than last time? Was anyone hurt? You need me, the mayor?" Alex asked with mock urgency.
Tori giggled. "Slow down. Make it believable. A pipe burst or something."
"Flooding, you say? Oh boy. Yes. Yes, I understand. Big... emergency. I can... help you," Alex said, standing and grabbing her purse.
She covered the mouthpiece and leaned toward Nathan, voice soft and apologetic. "I am so sorry. It was so great to meet you, but this... It’s serious. A Mayor’s job just never ends."
"Oh. Right. I understand," Nathan nodded solemnly.
"Thank you. It was so nice to meet you. I really am sorry for the loss of your... gerbil," Alex said gently.
That did it. Nathan began to cry again.
"Oh. You poor thing," she added sympathetically. "Order whatever you want. Go wild. It’s on Georgie and Luke, tonight."
Nathan gave a grateful nod and blew his nose with renewed drama.
Alex looked at Georgie with a forced smile. "See you at home. Have... fun."
Georgie narrowed her eyes––a silent laser beam of sisterly judgment aimed straight at Alex.
It wasn’t just a glare—it was a full-on telepathic scolding.
Alex felt it, ignored it like a pro, and casually slid her phone back to her ear, already halfway to the exit, heels clicking with every triumphant step of her dramatic getaway.
"What’s that, Tori? More flooding," Alex said with faux concern.
"Did I hear crying over a... gerbil?" Tori asked, half-laughing.
"Mhm. Sure did," Alex muttered as she passed the bar, fully ready to bolt—until she spotted someone.
Her steps halted. Eyes widened. Breath caught.
"Oh my gosh," Alex whispered.
"What?" Tori whispered back.
"He’s here," Alex whispered urgently.
"Who?" Tori asked.
"I can’t believe it. The guy from last night. At the ball," Alex said, peeking over the top of a potted plant.
"Which one?" Tori asked, crunching on another handful of popcorn, as if this was her favorite soap opera.
“Chivalrous guy. Gave me his car,” Alex explained, trying not to squeal.
“Ah. Cinderella’s Prince Charming. So, why are we whispering?” Tori teased.
“I don’t want him to hear me,” Alex whispered.
“Why not? Don’t you want to say hi?”
“I don’t know. Should I?” Alex asked, chewing her lip.
“I mean, unless you want a second round with gerbil guy,” Tori offered.
“Not a chance. Okay, I’m going in,” Alex said with sudden resolve.
She smoothed her hair, straightened her shoulders, and took a confident step forward—only to pause when another woman slid onto the barstool next to him. Margot.
Alex’s smile faltered. “False alarm.”
“Not him?” Tori asked.
Alex sighed. “It’s him, but… he’s taken.”
* * *
In separate corners of Portland, two very different homes mirrored one very similar routine.
Will stood in his bedroom, tugging a soft gray T-shirt from the top drawer and tossing a look at Fetch, who wagged his tail and followed close behind as Will made his way to the bathroom.
Across town, Alex grabbed her favorite plaid pajama pants and a tank top, her eyes already drooping from the long day. “Come on, Lady,” she said, not needing to look back. The jingle of Lady’s collar and the clicking of nails on the hardwood floor confirmed her faithful shadow was close behind.
In the glow of matching bathroom lights, Will and Alex stood over their respective sinks, brushing teeth and scrubbing off the day’s chaos.
Toothpaste. Cleanser. Maybe a little existential dread.
But all perfectly in sync—like a well-rehearsed bedtime duet neither knew they were singing.
Their dogs lingered in the doorway, watching like sleepy chaperones.
Lights clicked off. Blankets turned down.
Will padded toward his bed and pointed toward the plush dog bed beside it. “Your spot, buddy,” he said.
Fetch gave a short huff, circled twice, then plopped down with a satisfied sigh.
Alex patted her comforter. “Come on, Lady.”
Lady wasted no time, hopping up like royalty reclaiming her throne and curling up beside her.
Both humans slid into bed, blankets tucked, heads nestled against pillows. Almost simultaneously, hands reached out and phones were retrieved from the bedside tables.
Ping. Swipe. Cringe.
Will stared at yet another dating app match. “Nope,” he muttered, tapping a bright red X.
Alex squinted at her own screen. “Absolutely not,” she declared, doing the same.
Swipe. X. Swipe. Bigger X.
In near-perfect harmony, both hit delete on the dating app. One beat of hesitation... and poof. Gone.
Phones placed back on the nightstands. A final, mutual sigh.
Will turned to face Fetch.
Alex turned to face Lady.
Will exhaled. “Just us tonight, buddy.”
Alex smiled softly. “At least you don’t talk about your ex-gerbil.”
On opposite sides of town—but on the same wavelength entirely—they gazed at their dogs and somehow, unknowingly, toward each other in that imagined middle line of fate.
As if they’d rehearsed it, they both said, perfectly in sync, “I’m done with dating.”
They exhaled in unison, the kind of sigh that comes only after a day that felt like a romcom gone slightly off script.
Click. Two lamps flicked off in perfect sync, leaving the night to dream on their behalf.
Two hearts quietly, unknowingly aligned themselves.
Still in Portland.
Still completely unaware.