Page 103 of No Match Found
The article began with an explanation of what Matchify was and what it professed to do, then segued into my role as founder and CEO.
Some of it was a rehash of what Tanner’s article had said, but it got worse.
Someone had done their homework. The piece dug into old investor tensions, speculated about Matchify’s algorithmic accuracy via quotes from failed relationships formed on the app, then dove into the connection between Grant and me—including on the 12% figure.
And then there was the kicker.
A former boyfriend of Vivian West’s was contacted for comment on the situation. “Vivian was always all about the numbers and data. Being with her was a little bit like dating the human version of Excel. Kind of rigid, you know? It’s hard to have a relationship with someone like that, but maybe some guys are into that thing. I wish her and that guy the best.”
The words flickered in front of my face.Rigid. Human version of Excel.
I forced myself to keep reading, but I barely registered the last two paragraphs of the article.
I’d just deleted Chase’s text, but it felt like I’d cut off the head of Hydra, and more had regrown in its place.
I scrolled back up to the quote from Chase and reread it. My stomach swam, and I remembered what Grant had said about throwing up after his first negative review. I might have a similar reaction.
This wasn’t a personal text on my phone. This was an article in one of the foremost publications in the country. People thousands of miles away would read Chase’s words and know the very things about me I least wanted known. My worst fears about myself on display for anyone and everyone to consume.
Why would anyone trust such an unlovable woman to create something they could use to find love for themselves?
And then I remembered what Grant had said next.Don’t let a man who didn’t have the capacity to appreciate one of the best things about you pull you down even a second longer.
I breathed out, long and slow, as controlled as I could be when my body was shaking. I pulled out my phone with jittery hands and tapped my text thread with Grant, then scrolled up until I found the text I wanted.
You’re so intense. It’s my favorite thing about you. Never dim your light for anyone.
I tried to inhale the words like they were pure oxygen. My heart steadied, and I typed into the text bar.
Vivian
Did you see the article?
My computer dinged, and I glanced up to see a new email from Vantive.
I clenched my eyes shut. Given the timing of the email, I had little doubt what it was about.
Part of me wanted to ignore it, maybe even send it to my trash folder unread.
I clicked on it instead. Ignoring problems didn’t make them go away.
The email was barely three lines long, and even fewer words mattered:re-evaluated the reputational riskandhave decided to formally step back from funding discussions at this time.
Vantive had officially pulled out. Our plans to expand Matchify had just been obliterated, and it was my fault.
THIRTY-ONE
I slipped offmy shoes and hung my purse on the hook next to the door, then stared at my apartment.
It was the same place I’d lived for the past two years, but right now, it felt empty. Or maybe my apartment was normal and it was my soul that was empty.
I hadn’t gone home from work early for anything less serious than vomiting since Matchify’s inception. I’d made an exception today—even if itwasonly an hour early.
I hadn’t heard back from Grant about the article yet. I missed him so much, I could feel it in my heart. Not the metaphorical emotion center of my body. My actual, blood-pumping heart. More than anyone else, I needed him here. I’d get the truth from him. The calm but unvarnished truth.
I’d been hiding and fearing truths about myself for years, but Grant? He made the truth less terrifying. He didn’t conceal it or shy away from it. He sought it out willingly and sunk his teeth into it.
Right now, that was what I needed. I was facing hard truths about myselfandMatchify, and I had tough decisions about the future. I couldn’t make those decisions out of fear.
