Page 172 of The Neighbor Wager

“It’s the app.”

“What about it?”

“He signed up,” she says. “With a fake name, yeah, but it’s clear it’s him. And Willa might notice, if she’s been looking at the backend stuff, looking at our matches.”

People who get access to the code always want to see the matches of people they know. But— “What’s that matter?”

Sadness fills her eyes. “Listen, Dee, I know you believe in the algo. I know you think it’s magic—”

“It’s not magic.”

“Likemagic, whatever, but maybe it’s not perfect. Maybe it needs more help.”

What is she talking about?

She leaves the bathroom, finds her phone in her purse, returns.

And I figure it out the second she unlocks her screen. But it’s different, seeing it on the screenshot.

The perfect algo, the one that helped Lexi find love for the first time in her life, has spoken.

And it can say, with 100 percent confidence:

River and I are not a match.

We have less than a 30 percent chance of success.

That’s theworstmatch I’ve seen on my profile.

We’re doomed.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Deanna

The image stays burned into my brain.

The picture of River, slipping his hand into the pocket of his jeans, the familiar lines of ink on his wrist. The comic-inspired flower.

And the fake name on the screen.Ocean Ty. A play on River Beau. A stupid play. Because what’s funny about any of this?

Lexi offers strategic possibilities, but I barely register any of them. It doesn’t make sense. The algo is good. It’s working for her. It’s working for everyone.

There’s something wrong with me.

I’m the problem.

I’m the one who isn’t fit for love or connection or forever.

The rest of the app proves it. He has plenty of high matches. I have none.

He belongs with women in New York. Statistically speaking.

He knows where he’s supposed to be.

And I know where I need to be. Here. Yes, I’m statistically unlikely to find love here, but I need to be near my sister, my company, my house. I need to be someplace where the world makes sense.

Really, there’s no sense in drawing this out. There’s no sense in enduring the agony of falling further in love, breaking up, losing each other.

---