Page 60 of Something Like Fate

I’m officially the only Zhao woman in history to scare off her soulmate.

19

How have I messed things up in such a huge way? One moment, Caleb and I are making out, confessing how much we like each other, and the next, he’s fleeing the city. This is not thespaceI had in mind.

I spend the next hour sobbing in bed while Teller holds me.

“What happened?” he asks when I pause to blow my nose.

I wave my wad of wrinkly Kleenex and tell him everything.

“I never should have said anything so early. Why did I expect a nineteen-year-old dude to take that news well?” I bury my face in my pillow to hide the onslaught of tears.

He’s silent for a few moments, then wraps his arms around me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were right to tell him. He deserved to know. And why wouldn’t you put yourself out there? He gave every signal that he was interested in you. How were you to know he’s scared of commitment and doesn’t believe in monogamy?”

I sigh, blowing my nose yet again. I may or may not have snotted on Teller’s shoulder. “I should have known, though. That’s who he is. He lives his life like that, not committing to anything or anyone.”

“There. What you just said. That’s proof that it isn’t personal. It’s not about you. He just isn’t in a place to commit right now. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t your soulmate. Maybe you’re destined to meet again?”

I want to believe that. I know that’s what my aunts think. But it’s hard to conceive of him coming around afterthat.

“Tel, the man literally fled the city because of me. There’s no way I have another chance with him. And I can’t even contact him because he doesn’t have a cell phone.”

“He has social media. He showed me a picture of something on his Instagram. You can contact him. He just won’t get it right away,” Teller assures me. “But for now, screw him. He’s an asshole for leaving you like this.”

My world may be crumbling, but I can’t help but laugh. Teller rarely swears, let alone passionately like that. “Yeah. Screw him.”

He watches me expectantly, like he’s waiting for me to break down and cry again. His instincts are correct. Everything in me wants to curl up in a ball and remain motionless for the foreseeable future, but then I remember where I am—in Italy with my best friend. I can’t let Caleb ruin this.

I sniff back my incoming tears and steel my spine. “Promise me we won’t talk about Caleb for the rest of the night?”

“Caleb who?” he asks without a beat, glancing down to check the time on his phone. “Shit. It’s almost seven. We’re late for the cruise.”

We officially miss the riverboat cruise.

When we finally arrive at the docks, red-faced, clothes plastered to our bodies with sweat, we’re notified by an employee that it already left.

It’s the least disappointing thing to happen to me all day, but I feel terrible for Teller. I assume I’ve ruined his last night with Riley, but he just looks at me and says, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” I say. After all that running, I could use some food. “What do you want?”

“I was thinking pizza. We haven’t had good Italian pizza yet, and I feel cheated.”

“All right. Commence mission Find Good Pizza in Italy.”

It only takes Teller a couple minutes to organize a list of the top-rated pizza spots in Florence. He explains his methodology of cross-referencing multiple “best of” lists, and we decide to head to the first one on his list. “This place is famous for their mushroom pizza. And it’s only a ten-minute walk.”

As soon as we arrive, it’s evident we’ve made a grave error. This restaurant is fancy. Like, the customers are dressed in suits and the hostess looks like a supermodel-from-Milan type of fancy. When we approach, me in a denim dress and Teller in khaki shorts and a T-shirt, she looks like she’s sucked a lemon.

“Do you have a reservation?” she asks, like our mere presence is an inconvenience.

“No, but we were hoping you had room for two?” I ask, tossing in a weak smile.

She shakes her head. “Our tables book months in advance.”

“Jeez. She really filled me with the warm and fuzzies. How about you?” Teller asks as we walk away.

I smirk. “Fancy restaurant, rude staff. It’s a rule.”

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