The worst part? A tiny, selfish part of me wants to lean into it. To let myself believe I am as important to him as he is to me. But in that way lies madness—I have to shut this down. Fast. Before hope can take root, before we cross a line we can’t uncross.
I have to shut this down. Now.
Harriet:Oh, that’s great! But I’m sure it was all you. Speaking of which, I was working with E.M.M.A. and might have found you a match!!!!!!
I cringe as soon as I hit send, my stomach doing a full gymnastics routine.
Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Harriet. Way to chicken out.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, itching to type something—anything—that isn’t this exclamation-heavy bait and switch. But the memory of Gale’s lips on mine freezes me—those earth-shattering kisses that have been keeping me up atnight, making me bite my pillow to stay quiet as I touch myself. God, I’m getting wet just thinking about it, squirming in my chair when I should be working. But I can’t let myself have this. Can’t let myself imagine what else those lips could do if ordered. No. I gotta stop.
Focus, Harriet. Keep it professional.
He starts typing and stops at least three times.
Gale:Wait, what?
I can practically see his knotted brow through the screen. But I am committed now. No turning back.
Harriet:Hey... I had E.M.M.A. run some analysis to find you a perfect match.
There is another long pause. Too long. I start typing again, words spilling out in a nervous rush.
Harriet:It’s Jasmine Chen—the WNBA player, and she’s a local, if you can believe it. E.M.M.A. says you have a lot in common. Love of sports, similar sense of humor. She’s a cat lady too. And she’s tall. You’re tall. She likes sports. You like sports.
Another pause. Then:
Gale:What’s really going on here?
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
Harriet:It’s exactly as always. I’m just trying to keep mypromise. You know, find you a good match so you can improve your gameplay. See if E.M.M.A. is right. Jasmine seems great. You have such high compatibility matching.
Gale:I won’t force anything here. But circling back to this matchmaking stuff feels like you trying to push me away.
I stare at the screen, my throat tight. Gale isn’t wrong, but it’s not just about being uncertain about putting my fantasies into action, but about protecting the friendships that mean the world to me. I close my eyes, a memory flashing unbidden, from five years ago, right after Gale joined the Regals:
Brooke, expression grim as she deleted our friend Jess’s number from her phone. “My friends are like family to me,” she had said, her voice tight. “But Gale is my actual family. If something goes wrong between him and a friend... I’ll always have his back. I hate that it has to be that way, but he’s my brother.” There’d been real regret in her eyes, but also certainty.
The image shifts to Brooke at a party, shoulders tense, turning away from Jess’s tearful apologies. Gale, looking uncomfortable, trying to smooth things over, but Brooke had already made her choice. Our college friend group eventually fractured. And of course I chose Brooke—I understood her impossible position.
I can’t become another Jess, or have Brooke shut me out. If things didn’t work out with Gale, the damage would be done. Because let’s face it, my romantic track record isn’t exactly stellar. And Brooke... she’ll always choose her brother. I respect her loyalty, but the thought of losing them both is unacceptable to ponder.
Harriet:I just want you to be happy.
Gale:And you don’t think I could be happy with you?
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. I blink back tears, my fingers shaking as I type:
Harriet:It’s complicated. I’m best friends with your sister. If this went bad between us, it would affect that relationship. There’s just a lot at stake.
Gale:So you’d rather set me up with a stranger?
I close my eyes, feeling like the world’s biggest coward.
Harriet:I’m trying to do the right thing here.
Gale:For me? Or for you?
