Page 192 of Clinically Bewitched
“The universe knew what you needed.”
“The universe is a menace.”
“The universe is a matchmaker.”
He laughed, and the sound filled me with warmth. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... you might be right.”
“I’m always right.”
“Luna said the same thing five minutes ago.”
“She’s learning well.”
We fell into comfortable silence, the kind that only came from years of knowing someone deeply. From seeing them at their worst and their best and everything in between. From building a life together, brick by brick, moment by moment, spreadsheet by cosmic intervention.
I knew, from a very young age, that I was destined for something remarkable.
My mother told me stories about destiny and purpose, about how the universe had a plan for each of us if we were brave enough to follow it. She said that some people spent their whole lives fighting against their path, trying to control and manipulate and force things to go their way.
But the wise ones, she said, learned to surrender.
Not surrender in the sense of giving up, but surrender in the sense of trusting. Of believing that even when things didn’t make sense, even when the path was unclear, even when everything felt like chaos—there was a reason. A purpose. A plan.
I believed her.
I’d always believed her.
And the universe rewarded that belief with the journey of a lifetime.
It gave me adventures and challenges and moments of pure magic. It gave me a mother who taught me to trust my intuition, friends who supported my unconventional path, and experiences that shaped me into who I was meant to be.
And then, when I was ready—when I learned everything I needed to learn, when I’d grown into the person I was meant to become—it gave me Julien.
Rigid, controlled, absolutely terrified Julien.
Who needed chaos and spontaneity and someone to show him that life was so much bigger and more beautiful than any spreadsheet could capture.
Who needed to learn that love wasn’t something he could plan or schedule or control.
Who needed to understand that sometimes, the best things in life were the ones that surprised you.
The universe had known exactly what it was doing.
It always did.
“Athena?” Julien said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
I looked at him, confused. “For what?”
“For this. For them.” He gestured to the backyard, where Luna was now conducting a very serious medical consultation with a stuffed bear, Stella was singing to the tree, and Atlas was showing his dirt diagram to an imaginary audience. “For not giving up on me when I was being impossible.”
“You weren’t impossible.”
“I was absolutely impossible. I tried to annul our marriage.”
