The Soulmate Equation Page 67

River and Jess had never been a Diamond Match.

TWENTY-TWO

IN THE PAST twenty minutes, River had asked her four times whether she was okay.

Of course he had; any creature with a pulse could sense that there was something Not Right about her at the moment. But she couldn’t talk about it yet, and couldn’t talk about it here at the office, and even if she could—she wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear his answer to the simplest question: Did you know this whole time?

So she put on a flimsy blissful mask and answered Aneesha’s questions. But River’s quiet concern repeatedly reminded Jess that her stress was as clear on her face as a fever. The shock felt like the flu.

They took some photos together outside; they took some in the lab, laughing and gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes. But behind her smile, the question rammed into Jess’s thoughts like the piercing siren of a police car. Until she knew the answer, she couldn’t even let the next question slot into place, though it pressed against the glass anyway: Is what I feel even real?

Statistically speaking, she and River were many thousand times more likely to find their soulmate in a Base Match than they were to ever get an authentic Diamond Match, so even if their true score was a twenty-five, it wasn’t like they couldn’t be right together. But it was so much easier to trust those early, deep reactions when the numbers supported her.

But she was getting ahead of herself, and without information—without data—it was the last thing she could let herself do. Jess mentally crumpled the thoughts into a wadded-up ball of paper and set it on fire. One moment at a time, and now was not the moment for a meltdown.

Aneesha finished up on-site and gave Jess and River time to say goodbye before he had to leave with the People team to meet up with David and Brandon. Even thinking of David right then made Jess’s stomach sour. And if River knew … she didn’t know what she would do; her emotions would be too hot and giant and impossible to manage.

The moment they were alone, River pulled Jess into an alcove, bending to look her directly in the eye.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” he said quietly. “Are you mad at me?”

This one she could actually field. Are you okay? had been too big to answer under her breath with Aneesha and her photographer ten feet away.

“I’m not mad at you. But can we get together later?”

He laughed, confused. “Of course. I assumed we’d—”

“Just us.”

The smile evaporated, and a frown lined his forehead. River took a step closer, sliding a hand down her arm and linking his warm fingers with her cold ones. “Have I done something wrong?”

Jess hated to say “I don’t know,” but it was true.

“Something happened,” she admitted, “and I need to ask you about it, but now isn’t the time.” She swallowed. “I know it sucks, and I’m sure you’re going to be worrying about this until we can talk about it.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I will, too. You just have to trust me that we can’t do it here, and we need more than the ten minutes we have before you and Aneesha have to go.”

River gazed down at her and seemed to decide this was the best he was going to get right then. “Okay. I trust you.” He pulled her into his chest. There was honestly nothing Jess wanted more than to be able to confidently put her arms around his waist and lose herself in the clean citrus smell of him. But her joints were locked, posture stiff. “We’ll talk later?” he asked, pulling back to look at her, cupping her elbows.

“Yeah.” Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she retrieved it, expecting notification of some work email, or a text from Pops about dinner plans.

But it was from Fizzy, and worry immediately pushed all of the tightness in Jess’s chest up into her throat.

I need you ASAP.

Best friend bat signal.

 

“Sorry,” Jess whispered. “It’s Fizzy. She …”

Jess quickly replied:

Are you ok?

 

I am safe and not injured.

But no. I’m not ok.

 

Heart pounding, Jess looked up at River. She didn’t like leaving things like this, but she was going to have to. “I really need to go.”

His voice was a low blend of exasperated and worried, and he reached for her arm. “Jess—”

“She needs me. Fizzy never needs me. Call me when you’re all done?”

He nodded and took a step back, letting her go.

Turning away, Jess typed as she walked:

Where are you?

 

My place. Are you coming?

 

Yes. Be there in 20.

 

FIZZY’S FRONT DOOR was open; the interior of the house was shaded behind the screen door. Jess didn’t hear sobbing or screaming—which was reassuring—but Bon Iver played quietly from the living room speakers. For someone like Fizzy, whose general mood leaned more upbeat bop than quiet ballad, Bon Iver gave Jess a legitimate reason to worry.

And like that, River was put aside for later. Jess had a great deal of experience compartmentalizing. Jamie had shown up at Jess’s high school graduation toward the end of a four-day-long meth bender and stalked the aisles looking for her among the sea of classmates. About thirty seconds after she loudly climbed over Jerome Damiano and Alexa Davidson to get to her daughter, Jamie was escorted out by the campus security guard. Even so, Jess stood and made her way to the front of the auditorium when her name was called.

And, Jess remembered, she and Alec broke up about an hour before she presented her thesis to the entire mathematics department, when she was six months pregnant with Juno. She’d shoved all of her anger and disappointment aside, gone into the presentation with an enormous smile and beautifully designed slides, and gotten an A.

One look at Fizzy curled up in a ball on her couch, eyes red-rimmed, hair in an uncharacteristically messy bun, and a familiar wall slid into place.

She sat down, pulling one of Fizzy’s bare feet into her lap. “Tell me.”

Reaching up to wipe her nose, Fizzy said simply, “He’s married.”

“Who’s married?”

Fizzy turned her watery dark eyes up to Jess’s face. “Rob.”

“Banker Rob?”

Prev page Next page