Page 52 of A Match Made in Error

My hand twitches with the desire to point accusatorily. “I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!”

Noah clears his throat. Poppy’s head snaps toward him like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have, and I slowly turn to him, trying to hide my amusement.

“So…how did you two fall into step so quickly?” Noah’s voice is polite and even. Aoife smiles lovingly at him and places a hand over his on the table.

My hand moves to hold hers, mirroring the real couple before us. Her fingers flex naturally into mine, interlacing. “We’ve been friends for years and have always just…clicked.” Her words are practiced and controlled, but they shouldn’t be. What she’s saying right now is true. From the moment we met, we were able to move in sync. Even during her first shift at the Foxhole, we bartended together, finishing one another’s drink orders with ease and little communication.

Aoife tilts her head to the side, eyeing our interlaced fingers and close proximity with…suspicion? Is it not believable? How is it we could trick the Moirai but not a random light fae?

I sit straighter, listening intently to Noah’s words instead of interjecting jokes like I normally would. I can’t ruin this for Poppy. If we’re caught, she’ll suffer the weight of the curse far more than I will.

“Are you okay?” Poppy asks. She always sees right through me. “You seem…nervous.”

“I’m fine.” I use my words like a balm over her concern. It’ll be fine. Just be yourself, Riven. My body slouches slightly in my chair, legs splaying open until my right one is touching Poppy’s left. Her skin is so smooth, and warm from the direct sunlight we’re sitting in.

Natural. Be natural.

“And what do you like most about her?” Aoife asks me directly, brow quirked.

The charismatic Riven the world knows would comment on her body or her tolerance of me, but I know authenticity is going to earn me points. Plus, there are so many things I like about her. I don’t need to make anything up.

“She’s like…harbor. A safe place to just be myself.”

Poppy freezes for half a second, swallowing when Noah directs the same question to her. “And what about you, Poppy?”

I look at her. Really look.

The sun is shining on her head, bringing out the golden threads in her brown hair. The magical freckles she gave herself when we first came here are gone and replacing them are sun-earned freckles of her own. Her bottom lip is pressed between her teeth, and it takes a while before she answers.

“The same thing, actually.” Her voice is soft and sincere enough that Aoife sits back in her chair with a pleased smile on her lips. “Riven has always made me feel seen and safe and taken care of.” I swallow, her words sinking into a hole in my chest that years of being not enough created. “So,” Poppy clears her throat, “how have things been for you two?” This question sends Aoife into a long-winded story about snorkeling and him saving her from an aggressive draxolotl. Popp shifts slightly closer to me, bringing my cappuccino cup to her lips once more and pressing her knee to mine under the table.

“I knew the first night,” Noah finally says with a smile.

“I didn’t.” Aoife snorts. “But saving me from the draxolotl had me convinced.”

“I’m sure,” I offer in my usual swagger. “I’d think saving Poppy would make her fall right into my-”

“Arms,” Noah interjects, nodding enthusiastically.

“I was going to say bed, but sure.” Poppy swats me, but we all laugh it off, ease settling around us. I breathe a sigh of relief.

This is not as difficult as I thought it would be.

“Thanks again for the invite.” Poppy hugs Aoife. “I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“The Moirai don’t wait long between torture sessions,” Aoife quips. I snort. Truer words have never been said.

Poppy and I move down the path, side by side. Not touching, just enjoying the silence. Palm fronds hang over the path, the sun shining through them, painting the pavestones in tropical stripes. Somewhere in the distance, birds caw in a symphony unique to the tropics, and with one inhale, my shoulders relax as the salty sea air enters my lungs. I could be truly at peace in a place like this if the Moirai weren’t here torturing us. It’s shocking, honestly, that I could find myself at home at a place like this. The Ombra, where I grew up, is cold, mountainous, and shrouded in shadow most days of the year. I’d never find occasion to be in shorts or topless outside, and shadows usually don’t enjoy direct sunlight. Mine are as odd as I am, I suppose. They trail behind us on the path, daring little jaunts into the sunrays before dancing back into the shadows.

“Well,” I invade our silence. “That was invasive.”

Poppy lets out a small sound, halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “They’re not so bad.” Light cracks ring out when she rolls her neck.

“Why so tense then?” She jumps, her face contorting from shock to annoyance to amusement in a few seconds.

“Warn a girl.” She holds her hand to her chest and laughs.