Through the Dark

Chapter 4: Soulmate? More like soul-suckers

Okay, let's break this down. I just bumped into a guy who should have a soulmate, right? That's the whole point of this messed-up gift I've been cursed with. I can see everyone else's damn soulmates, but never my own. So why the hell didn't he have one? I mean, come on, is this some kind of cosmic joke I'm supposed to be in on? I spent the entire walk back to my stupid office thinking about it—overthinking, probably, but it's kind of my thing.

Let's consider the possibilities here: maybe he was a sociopath. Maybe soulmates only work if you're not a total dickhead. Maybe his soulmate's, like, a potato or something, and they just haven't met yet. Or, better yet, maybe he's a secret alien who doesn't need a soulmate because he's literally the only one of his kind on Earth. Yeah, that's it. He's from another planet, and we're all just here waiting for him to expose the truth.

But whatever it was, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe I was just bored. Either way, it was driving me crazy.

I finally make it to my office, and of course, the first thing I see is a bunch of glittery dust flying around in the air. Great. Because nothing says "welcome to work" like a bunch of supernatural fairy things throwing a rave in the corner of my tiny, over-caffeinated office.

Meet the Cupids. They're these weird, iridescent little fairy-like creatures who think they know everything about love, fate, and soulmates. There's two of them, obviously. The whole "twins" thing is supposed to make them cuter, I guess, but honestly, it's just annoying. They look like a cross between the tooth fairy and some kind of drugged-up hummingbird.

"Hey, Gracie!" one of them chirps, clearly over-enthusiastic about literally everything. "How's your day going?"

I roll my eyes and drop my bag on the desk. "Oh, it's been great. Just bumped into a guy who doesn't have a soulmate. So, you know, living the dream."

The twins exchange a look like they've never heard anything more ridiculous in their entire fairy existence.

"What do you mean? Everyone has a soulmate, Gracie," one says, floating closer to me like a hyperactive balloon.

I shrug and kick my feet up on the desk. "Well, evidently, I'm the exception. Big surprise, huh? The girl who can see everyone's soulmates but never her own? Yeah, maybe I'm the odd one out. Maybe the universe just decided I don't deserve one."

The other twin laughs—because why wouldn't she? "No one's an exception, Gracie. It's impossible for someone to not have a soulmate. It's written in the stars. Everyone's paired up."

I can feel the sarcasm practically dripping off my tongue. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm definitely one of those people who's an exception to the rule. Thanks for the advice, though, I'll just wait for my soulmate to magically show up with a bouquet of roses and a lifetime supply of perfect love."

"Gracie," the first twin says with a sigh, floating a bit closer. "You're a Cupid, for crying out loud. You can help everyone else find their soulmate, but you refuse to believe in your own."

"I'm not refusing to believe anything," I snap. "I'm just... bitter. You know, from a lifetime of disappointment. Big difference."

They exchange another look, but I'm already done with this conversation.

"I'm just saying," the other twin says, "the universe doesn't screw up. You just have to trust it."

"Oh, I trust it," I mutter. "Trust it to screw me over at every possible turn."

And with that, I plop down in my chair, praying for the sweet release of peace and quiet. The twins, of course, float around me like little glowing pests, but I'm pretty much tuning them out by now. I've had enough. I've been doing this gig long enough to know one thing for sure: I'll be helping everyone else find their happily ever after, while I get to watch the world fall in love without even having a clue where mine is.

So yeah, thanks for nothing, universe. You really outdid yourself this time.