Chapter 23 Cupid
Cupid
I drove for eight hours straight to get back to San Francisco, to Felicity, only stopping for gas along the way. And then a quick stop to buy the gifts, because when I got about twenty minutes away, I started to panic, just a little bit.
I weighed my options when I realized she hadn’t just run away from our conversation—that she’d left the hotel, and Las Vegas, for good.
She told me not to follow her, and I wanted to respect that.
At the same time, I couldn’t have the last thing I said to her make her think that she’s unlovable.
I hadn’t meant it like that, of course I hadn’t.
It didn’t matter, though, because that’s what she heard.
And what she heard—between my conversation with the Fates and my bumbled explanation—hurt her deeply.
The last time I felt this way about a woman, I let her get away. I didn’t fight for her. When all was said and done, I vowed that I would not make that same mistake again.
See, I know better than anyone that finding love—real, honest, life-altering love—is a privilege. It is never a guarantee. And it can slip through your fingers just as quickly as it falls into your lap.
The Fates, quite literally, brought Felicity and me together. But they wouldn’t be what tore us apart if I had anything to do with it.
Which is how I ended up here, at the threshold of Felicity’s apartment, her soft, warm hand entwined with mine—and a screaming woman running straight at us with arms thrown wide.
She goes for Felicity first, ramming into her so hard I hear an audible oof. Next, it’s my turn, and she squeezes me so tightly I think she might have cracked a rib.
When she lets go, she holds me at arm’s length and looks me dead in the eye. “If you hurt her again, I’ll hunt you down myself.” Then she pats my cheek, turns to Felicity and chirps, “Text me the details!” and flounces out of the apartment.
“Uh, nice to meet you?” I call after her, utterly confused.
Felicity laughs and pulls me deeper into her personal space. “That’s Janae, the best friend I told you about. She won’t actually hunt you down,” she says. “I don’t think.”
“That’s…comforting.”
With a light shove, Felicity directs me toward her couch. We both settle onto the cushions, taking brief, tentative looks at each other.
Boy, do I have a crush on this girl.
“I just wanted to—”
“I’m sorry that I—”
We laugh as we accidentally talk over each other.
“You first,” Felicity tells me.
I take a deep breath, then dive right in. I explain—or try to—how infatuated I was that first night when I met her. Then, like the stars aligning, the Fates told me they needed me to go on a mission—and it was to find her. To make her believe in love again.
“The Fates are who you heard me talking to in the slot machine.”
“Huh, I wondered about that,” she says. “Do they—do they live in slot machines?”
I chuckle, trying to imagine that reality. It would certainly make my life more peaceful. “No. They just kind of…show up wherever you are and make demands.”
When I met with the Fates that night, I was conflicted. On one hand, I couldn’t believe my luck. It was about the beautiful woman I met at the bar! Now I had her name and a reason to find her again. But it wasn’t that easy.
“The Fates told me this whole story about how important it was to get you to stop making that app. They wanted me to shoot you with one of my arrows,” I explain. “I told them I would, but…I lied. I don’t think I ever really intended to do it.”
“Why?” she asks, softly.
“Because I thought…” I feel my neck flush, and a blush creeps across my face. “I thought we might have something special,” I admit. “And if we were going to—you know—I wanted it to be real. Because of me, not because of what I can do. Not because of one of my arrows.”
Felicity tilts her head and considers me.
“I guess that makes sense, in a weird, twisted way,” she tells me.
“Not my most brilliant plan,” I say with a sigh. “But I didn’t know what to do, and they told me I was on a tight timeline.” My eyes meet Felicity’s. “One thing I’ve learned over my lifetime—you do not fuck with the Fates.”
She nods as if this means anything to her, and even this small gesture tugs at my heart.
“But you kind of did,” Felicity says, smiling, “when you decided not to use the arrow.”
“Like I said…not my most brilliant plan. Then, after I spent even more time with you, I knew I was a goner. And you started to act like…” I clear my throat. “Like you might feel the same way. Then you told me you did. I thought my bet paid off.”
“Then I overheard you.”
“Then you overheard me.”
I reach up and play with the ends of Felicity’s hair, watching her take in this information. Her mouth forms into a thin line as her face settles into a look of pure determination.
“You were right,” Felicity says. “I was unlovable.”
“That’s not—”
“I mean, I had made myself unlovable. Or seem unlovable. Whatever. I wasn’t open to it and, quite frankly, I thought you were full of shit.”
I snort out a laugh.
“When you ‘shot’ me with the arrow,”—she uses air quotes here—“it gave me an excuse to let my walls down. I just didn’t know they were built that high, and that strong.”
Felicity exhales. “And I really, really wanted to build that app. But I think it’s because I needed to be right. I needed to prove to myself—and to the world—that my broken heart didn’t actually affect me, in the end.”
She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “It would have been a lie.”
I swipe at a wet cheek with my knuckle.
Felicity continues. “And when I really think about it, I don’t want to create something that could, like, end the world.”
I flinch. “About that…”
When the Fates witnessed my last conversation with Felicity, they must have felt sorry for me, because they confessed something that made my head spin.
“They made it up?” Felicity shouts, jumping up from her spot on the couch. “All of it?” she asks.
“Yep,” I say. “Turns out it was one big lie.”
This is the part I didn’t want to have to explain, because the scheme is so ridiculous, yet so predictable, that even I have trouble accepting it.
“My mother put them up to it,” I say with a shrug, trying to keep my cool. “History repeats itself. She somehow found out I was going to meet you and fall madly in love, and—”
Felicity plops back down onto the couch. “Madly in love?” she says so quietly I almost miss it.
Why does she think I’m here? Just for a good time?
“Yes,” is all I say, and she swallows. I leave it at that for now—it’s not the time to push.
After a moment, Felicity says, “I don’t think I ever want to meet your mother.”
This gets a laugh out of me. “Gods no. I’m keeping her far, far away from you. Don’t worry about that—I worked out something with the Fates that should keep her off our backs.”
Felicity lies back and rests her legs in my lap, hand going to her forehead. “This has…been a lot for me. All of it.” She holds my gaze. “I can’t pretend like any of this is normal, or like nothing happened. You still lied to me—and this is still really fucking confusing.”
I nod. “I wouldn’t expect you to pretend. I just want you to give me—us—another chance.”
Very gently, I pick her legs up and set her feet on the floor. Then I face forward and hold my arm out at an awkward angle, pretending I’m holding a beer.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“Starting over,” I say. “Back to square one.”
Felicity must catch my meaning, because she does the same: faces forward, as if sitting at a bar.
I turn to her and smile. “Sorry to bother you…”
“You’re not bothering me,” she says. “Not at all.”
“Good—because you’re the most captivating woman I’ve ever seen, and I was wondering if I could take you out sometime?”
“Sure.” Felicity’s eyes twinkle in the low light of her apartment. “If the Fates allow.”