Lunar Love (40)

“She told me that you would be taking over Lunar Love soon. She showed me photographs. You were a pretty cute kid.” Bennett grins, the beauty mark on his cheek lifting with the corner of his eyes.

I bury my face in my hands. “Oh, god.”

“What’s so bad about childhood photos?” he says with a laugh.

I spread my fingers over my eyes and peek at Bennett through them. “It’s not that. You were both conspiring!”

Bennett turns to walk sideways, bending closer to look at me through my window-fingers. “You make it sound a lot shadier than it was. She didn’t mention me to you at all?”

“Definitely not,” I say on an irritated exhalation.

Bennett sighs. “Your turn. What really happened at the baking class?”

We find an empty spot to sit at the Mission Playhouse’s curved fountain, the sculpture in the center spilling over with water from top to middle to bottom. From here, I can see Harper, who’s laughing and chatting with her friends, not looking like she’s missing Bennett at all. That’s not a great sign.

I refocus on Bennett. “I told you, it was a friend from a past life. That’s all there is to know.”

“Pact,” Bennett says, holding his hand over his chest.

“Was that a trick? Just so I’d tell you?” I ask defensively.

Bennett crosses his ankle over his knee and rests his elbow on his thigh. “You promised.”

I sigh. “She really was an old, close friend. Colette.” Saying her name brings her ghost to life. Water splashes into the center of the fountain, sending ripples outward toward us. I bite my lip, trying to find the words. “I destroyed her life.”

Bennett doesn’t laugh or scoff. He sits and waits patiently for me to continue, his calmness encouraging me.

“I didn’t know she was back in town,” I add. “Seeing her was surreal.”

“How did you destroy her life?” Bennett asks without a trace of judgment in his voice. He’s in the middle of a date but is acting like he has all the time in the world for me.

“By matching her with someone incompatible.” I stare at the mossy floor of the fountain to avoid eye contact with him. The lights around the circumference of the fountain wall power on, making the water glitter in the lavender dusk. “I convinced her to let me match her. When she finally agreed, I was in a place in my life where I thought incompatible matches were harmless. I learned my lesson. I’ll never let that happen again.”

“That’s tough,” Bennett says.

I spiral deeper into my memories, reflecting on what happened. It wouldn’t be the first time these thoughts have taken over.

“I must’ve missed something in the background check,” I try to reason. “The guy convinced Colette to make a sketchy investment, took her money, and then vanished. That happened because of me. He tricked us both.”

“That’s awful,” Bennett sympathizes.

“As her matchmaker and friend, I should’ve known something wasn’t right. I was too distracted with my own life,” I admit. “I let what I was going through influence me. I refused to listen to Pó Po, to my gut, or to anyone who knew better.”

The noise of the crowd around us fades away. I confide in Bennett like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like I’ve done it before a thousand times. He listens carefully, focusing on my face. Feeling him watching me is unnerving and wholly satisfying at once.

“I haven’t talked to Colette in years, and it’s all my fault,” I continue. “Our friendship ended overnight.”

“Have you tried reaching out?” Bennett asks.

I turn my head side to side slowly. “It was pretty clear she wanted nothing to do with me. The blowup was intense. It was a rough time.” I move my ring up and down my finger, twisting it around and around.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bennett says softly. “That’s hard to lose someone like that.”

I wave my hand through the air. “I was reckless. I had—have—a responsibility. What I do, what we do, affects actual human lives. It isn’t a game. The consequences are very real,” I say breathlessly. It’s been years since I’ve talked about this. For a moment, it’s as though the weight of the world isn’t my burden to carry.

“Hence what you said about incompatibility only leading to trouble.” Bennett angles his body toward me, the expression on his face compassionate. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Is that a good enough reason for you throwing yourself on the ground?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“I would’ve done it for less,” Bennett says earnestly, a small grin playing across his lips.

His smile is contagious, and I can’t resist mirroring it. I bite down, blushing.

I look over the crowd to check on my client, who’s no longer with her group of friends. Bennett stands to greet an enthusiastic Harper, who’s spotted us. She waves excitedly and jogs the rest of the way to us.

“Hi, Olivia!” Harper says with a big smile, her lips painted blush pink.

“Harper, hi,” I say in my most professional tone. The optics of this must look bad. I form excuses in my head to say to her. But really, there’s no excuse for taking her date away. None that I could tell her anyway.