Page 78 of The Replay

"I didn't think it would ever happen again."

"And?" I repeat, in a way I hope comes across as curiosity.

Opening your heart isn't a time to be a brat.

He frowns at me. "Life has a way of surprising us. I think that's how my friends see it. They were willing to be surprised by love. Regardless of the risk."

I take a deep breath. That's such an opposite take from mine, or my family's. To live like that feels too unlikely. I know how hard it is when it's gone, and how unlikely it is to show up in the first place. Who would put their hopes in it? I know it won't help me find the kind of success that would let me breathe easy, because I finally have something to point to and say, hey, I can succeed too.

"Maybe I'm in my pessimistic era," I say. "But I really don't think it's going to happen any time soon, if at all."

Light goes green.

"I get it," he says, eyes on the road again. "It happened once already, right? Lightning doesn't strike twice."

"Even if you stand outside in a thunderstorm crossing your fingers."

He snorts. "That's why we'll go out and have fun without hopes of a future. We're in the era of disillusioned dating. Keeping it light, not seeking love."

"I'll dance in the rain." I sigh. "But I don't plan to go out there with a kite, a string, and a key."

He chuckles. I smile.

He parks the car in front of my building and turns off the engine. Rain falls hard on the roof, filling the car with a drumming noise. I shift on my seat to stare at him better.

"I really loved you." His voice resounds with the same wistful tone I've heard in my head all night. "So much. But with everything… The past has to stay in the past. And I don't have a lot of hope in the future, so this is it."

"I really loved you too," I whisper. "I don't see that happening again. How could it?"

He finally gazes at me. "Yeah. That's not the issue we're having, is it?"

Chapter 25

Dom

Her eyes have been sad most of the night. They've been a mirror to my mood, especially since I caught her standing in the rain, but they are filled with confusion now.

"What's the issue we're having?" she asks.

I let out a fake suffering sigh. "We've been better at letting go of love than we've been at resisting lust."

We need the joke. Something to alleviate the heaviness of what talking about love does to us. It doesn't help that we're in the close space of my car, hearing the skies pouring on the roof, and lulled by the soft light coming in from the city lamps.

She laughs. "Yeah, well. Lust isn't as complicated."

"And we were really good at it too. It's understandable. Especially considering we're both on a break from dating for a while."

"But it's possible to find, right?" she asks. "You've dated a lot. Slept with a thousand people. Did that happen to you? You found that kind of physical chemistry, yeah?"

Funniest thing? I didn't sleep with as many people as she thinks. I didn't have sex with everyone I dated. But I don't correct her.

I shake my head. "Why are you asking?"

"Trying to have hope in something."

"Chemistry can happen. Kind of." I let out a long, slow breath. This one is real. "No. Not really. Not the same way."

She drops her head in a disappointed way. "That sucks for us."