The Soulmate Equation by Christina Lauren

TWENTY-THREE

AFTER A STUNNED beat, Jess stepped away and let her arms fall to her sides. River didn’t seem to notice; his attention was still shifting over the rows of numbers as he went from page to page and back again. Her heart had lodged somewhere in her windpipe.

River let out a low groan and hung his head. “I should have seen it.”

“How?” Jess asked, incredulous. “There are thirty-five hundred numbers there. At this point, you send this information into the black box and it’s simplified so extensively you’d never know if something was off.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, turning around and ducking past her, out into the living room. “The amount of time I spent poring over the Fuchses’ data. I should have seen.”

“Not even a brain like yours can memorize thirty-five hundred numbers from almost a decade ago.” Jess moved to put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged away, turning to face the window.

His hands ripped into his hair and he let out a quiet growl. “This is a catastrophe.”

Jess stared at his back. He was right. It was a terrible thing to uncover, and David was going to have hell to pay, but wasn’t there a touch of serendipity in it, too? It had still brought them together. “I know you have a lot on your mind,” she started quietly, “but I want you to know that I love you. This doesn’t change that.”

He went still, like he was thinking about how to react to this, but then abruptly looked down at his watch. “Shit. David’s probably still at the office. I need to head over there right now.”

Jess pivoted as quickly as her heart and brain would let her. “Okay. Yes. Good.” A plan. She reached for her phone, swiping to Favorites and pressing Pops’s photo. It was already ringing when she brought it to her ear. “Let me just get Pops to sit with Juno—”

“Jess.” He reached for the phone, gently pulling it from her grip. With his eyes on the screen, he ended the call before Pops answered.

“What are you doing? I can’t leave without—”

Oh.

River was still staring at her screen, at the photo of four-year-old Juno dressed as an octopus for Halloween. His eyes were glued to the image. Had he looked at Jess once since he saw the data? “I need to talk to him alone.”

Jess exhaled a shocked laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“This is my company, Jess.”

“But this situation involves me, too. I have a right to know why he did this.”

His shoulders stiffened. “If he did this. We don’t know that this wasn’t an oversight or mistake or, or—some kind of computer glitch. I’ve known the man forever. I have to give him a chance to explain it, and I need to do it myself.”

Jess felt her jaw clench. “You seriously expect me to just cool my heels here, alone?”

He nodded tightly.

“Will you come over later?”

“I’m not sure.” River took a deep breath and finally met her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go, now.” He reached for his bag on the table and shoved everything inside before heading for the door. Jess trailed after him, but he couldn’t leave fast enough. Mentally, River was already gone.

She stood at the door, watching the burning, familiar sight of someone she loved walk away. “River.”

He muttered, “I’ll call you,” and then disappeared through the dark courtyard.

BUT RIVER DIDN’Tcall. Jess stayed up until almost three, alternating between watching TV and checking her phone. Finally she fell asleep propped awkwardly against her pillows, waking to find the TV still on and her phone still empty of messages.

She was in a terrible mood by the time the morning routine began.

“Juno, I’m trying to make your lunch. Can you leave the cat alone and get dressed? Now, please.”

Juno pouted from where she was crouched on the carpet waving one of Pigeon’s toy feathers back and forth. “I don’t know what to wear.”

“You had clothes out last night. And bring me your dishes, Bug.”

“But we have PE today, and I want to wear leggings.”

Jess swore her kid had some sort of radar that zeroed in on exactly how short her Mom Fuse was on any given day, and then turned lighting it into an Olympic sport. “So wear leggings.”

“I don’t know where they are.”

“You have at least ten pairs of them.”

“I want the black ones with the stars.”

“Did you put them in the laundry?” Jess reached for the grapes in the fridge and tucked a bunch into Juno’s lunch box. Her phone was facedown on the counter, but she left it untouched. Looking would only make her feel worse.

Juno rolled around on the floor, squealing as the cat began chewing on the ends of her hair. “I think so.”

“Then look in the dryer.” Jess threw in a cup of applesauce, a bag of carrot sticks, and the last tube of yogurt, making a mental note to go to the store.

“Can you get them for me?” More laughing, more squealing. No getting dressed.

“Juno!” Jess yelled. Her voice was so loud it startled even her.

Quietly, Juno pushed herself up and skulked out of the room.

Frantically, Jess wiped down the counter and closed the refrigerator door so hard it bounced back open. Another glance at her watch. Shit. The dryer door slammed and a startled cat bolted down the hall, jumping on the coffee table and knocking over Juno’s half-eaten bowl of cereal. Milk and soggy Rice Krispies dripped slowly to the floor.

“How many times do I need to tell you no food in the living room!”

“It was Pigeon’s fault!”

“Get dressed!” Her voice seemed to echo through the suddenly silent apartment.

Juno’s bottom lip jutted out and she stomped into her room again. Jess dropped onto the couch, exhausted. It was barely eight.

They walked to school in tense silence; Juno was mad, but not nearly as mad as Jess was at herself. She cycled through memories of Jamie having an argument with whatever man she was with at the time and taking it out on Jess or Nana or Pops.

Jess was in a shame spiral by the time they reached the monkey bars.

Needing to fix this, Jess crouched on the grass in front of Juno. “You have your outline for the art fair?”

She nodded but didn’t meet Jess’s eyes, instead focusing on the playground over her mom’s shoulder. Her little forehead was so grumpy.

“And your lunch is in your backpack?”

Another curt nod.

“I’m sorry I yelled this morning. I didn’t get enough sleep and woke up in a bad mood. I should have counted to ten.”

“Can Pops pick me up after school?”

Betrayal was a sharp knife twisting in her chest. “He’ll be with Nana Jo at rehabilitation. I don’t have any meetings, so I get to pick you up today.”

“Can River Nicolas instead?”

The knife pushed in deeper. It wasn’t that Juno wanted someone specific, it was that she specifically didn’t want Jess. Jess knew that it was irrational to feel hurt—Juno was mad, and this was what mad kids did—but being a shitty mom this morning was the last thing Jess’s heart needed. How could she say that she had no idea where River would be after school? Or next week? Or next year?

If she were Jamie, she would either show up later today with a present two years too young for Jess’s interests or call Jess a brat and not show up at all. I am not my mom. Jess wrapped her little girl in a hug. “I’ll ask him, but either way, I’ll be here at pickup,” she said. “I love you the mostest.”

Juno softened in her arms. “I love you the mostest, too.”

FIZZY AND SHEhad been sitting at their table at Twiggs for twenty minutes, but Jess had yet to log into her computer.

“Earth to Jess.”

She tore her eyes away from the window. “Sorry, what?”

“I was asking about Nana.”

“Right.” Jess looked down at the frothy top of her untouched flat white. “She’s doing okay. Better than okay, actually. She has out-patient PT every day for a couple weeks. They’re working on strengthening exercises and putting some weight on that leg. Her bone density is good, so they aren’t too worried about the pins shifting. She’s a lightning bolt on that scooter.”

“And Pops?”

“He’s happier now that she’s home with him,” Jess said flatly. “He’s charmed most of the staff at the rehab facility, so of course gets whatever he wants.”

“Let me find my surprised face,” Fizzy said, and then went quiet and still across from Jess as she turned her phone over and glanced at the screen. Nothing. “Do you want to tell me what’s with you today?”

“Me?”

Fizzy smiled. “Jess. My bestie intuition is god tier, level five thousand, the top one percent. You think I can’t tell when something’s off? Are you worried about Nana or those children of the corn in Juno’s class?”

Jess laughed for the first time all day. The problem was that she couldn’t talk about this. Not only wasn’t it her problem to share, she wasn’t even sure how big the problem was.

“I’m fine, just slept like crap and snapped a little at Juno this morning.” Lifting her cup to her lips, she asked, “Any update on Rob?”

“I’m sure he’s tried to call,” Fizzy said, “but I blocked him. From my phone, Insta, Facebook, Snapchat, WhatsApp, TikTok, Twitter, and …” She lifted her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and added, “LinkedIn.”

“You have all those?”

Fizzy shrugged, tearing off a piece of muffin.

Jess reached across the table to take Fizzy’s free hand. “Do you think you’ll see any more of your matches?”

“Who knows. My social boner is pretty limp right now.”

“That sentence makes so much sense.”

The bell rang over the door, and Jess’s attention flew toward the sound. River. She glanced at her phone. It was well past nine. He was late.

Bypassing the front counter, he walked straight toward their table. His hair was a bit more mussed than usual, and his eyes looked heavy and red, but his clothes were pressed, his posture perfect. Jess hated how quickly her traitorous body wanted to forget about his abrupt departure yesterday, his lack of communication, and just stand up and step into his arms.

“Hey,” he said to her, and then turned to Fizzy. “I heard about the asshole.”

“Today I’m affectionately referring to him as the douchebaguette.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to get an alert, so I deactivated your matching for now, and banned the douchebaguette from the platform. The system may have accidentally sent a duplicate receipt to his billing address, but I obviously wouldn’t know anything about that. With any luck his wife is the one getting the mail.”

Fizzy smiled warmly at him and reached for his hand. “I knew you were my favorite of Jess’s many lovers.”

Jess just sat there, watching the two of them interact like everything was normal. But it wasn’t. He hadn’t looked at her again. A rough fissure was forming in the center of her heart.

River gave an awkward laugh. “Well, this is yours if you want it.” He handed Fizzy an envelope with the colorful DNADuo logo embossed on one side.

Wary, she took it from him, turning it over in her hands. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s your compatibility score with Rob.”

She dropped it like it was on fire. “Ugh. I don’t think I can open it.”

True to type, River didn’t say anything. He only stared at her with gentle empathy. “Your call.”

“What if it says we’re a match?” Fizzy said, heartbreakingly vulnerable. “I’m never going to be with someone who cheated on his wife, no matter how perfect biology says we are for each other.” She slid it back across the table. “Just shred it.”

“You’re sure?” he asked. He didn’t reach to pick it up.

“If you thought you and Jess might not be soulmates, would you want to know?”

Leave it to Felicity Chen to hit the proverbial nail on the head without even knowing it.

River’s gaze flew to Jess’s and then away, visibly pained. He reached for the envelope, tucking it into his blazer. “Maybe. I don’t know.” When he dragged in a stuttering breath, it felt to Jess like she was witnessing him fraying at the edges. Did River need a particular score to be sure about her?

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Jess asked.

He met her eyes and nodded once.

With a little wince to Fizzy—who was no doubt picking up on every weird vibe they were throwing off—Jess followed him out the door, turning on him as soon as they were outside. “Dude.”

“I know I didn’t call last night and I’m sorry,” he said immediately, sending an agitated hand into his hair. “It was a lot to process.”

“Would you like to share any of your process with me?”

“He admitted everything … all of it. He and Brandon both.”

Jess felt unsteady where she stood. “Both of them?” She needed to sit down.

“They knew I would take it seriously. That I’d …” He paused, blowing out a breath. “That for a score like that, I would do my best to try.”

“Holy shit.”

“They changed the values from the Fuchses’ assay. They weren’t wrong that it would be a huge boost for the company. I don’t even know what we’re facing, honestly.”

“What were our actual scores?”

He shrugged. “David never let any of our assays finish. He didn’t want a data trail.”

Jess stared at him, stunned. They didn’t even have a score? Ever? “Was this the first time or were there others? Is the whole thing fake?”

River shook his head vehemently. “I’ve had my hands in all of the data until about six months ago, when things got much busier,” he said, words all smashed together. Jess had never seen him like this: eyes wild and bloodshot, energy tumultuous. Whatever power had kept him composed in Twiggs was crumbling out here on the sidewalk. “I mean, until I was out meeting with investors constantly. Dave and Brandon claim our profiles are the only ones they forged.” He sent both hands into his hair now and stared down at the pavement. “I’ll have to confirm that.”

“I don’t understand. If they were only going to pick one set of scores to fabricate, why include me? You’re gorgeous and can sell this better than anyone. I’m a thirty-year-old, broke single mother. Why not keep things simple and pick a model-slash-PR-superstar?”

“Dave saw you when you and Fizzy came into the office,” River said, voice tight. “He thought you were beautiful and would look great on camera.”

Jess thought back to that day. “I was in jeans and a sweatshirt. I looked like a fifth grader.”

“Dave’s known me for almost thirteen years. As he put it, he ‘knew what I’d be into.’”

Her brows rose slowly.

River quickly clarified. “He meant you. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong.” River attempted a smile, but at best it was a grimace. “The idea cemented when they learned more about you. A statistician, a local, helping take care of your grandparents. They didn’t know about Juno until later and—”

“And I said I didn’t want her involved.”

“Exactly.” He looked back toward the café, eyes narrowed against the morning light. “You didn’t tell Fizzy?”

“What would I tell her? Five minutes ago, I wasn’t even sure what was going on. Besides,” she said, and stepped forward, coaxing one of his hands from his tightly crossed arms, “this is a mess for your company, but it isn’t a mess for us.” She tried to pull him closer, but he was as tight as a lock; nowhere in his present demeanor was her deliberate, focused boyfriend. “Hey. Look at me. No matter what our score actually is, I’m in for the long haul. Statistics can’t tell us what will happen, they can only tell us what might happen.”

He didn’t respond, didn’t look at her. Instead, he lowered his head and carefully pulled his hand free from hers. River’s silence pressed down all around her, heavy and choking.

“Right?” she pressed.

He looked up. “Of course, yes. I’m just a mess this morning.”

She didn’t feel at all comforted. “What will happen to them?”

“The board will meet, and we’ll have some really difficult conversations. What they did was unethical at best and illegal at worst. They’ll likely be replaced, and all the data from the past six months—about fourteen thousand samples—will have to be rerun.” He paled, staring down the enormity of it.

A question bloomed, pushing itself out of her mouth. “Did you run our samples?”

“No,” he said immediately. Flatly. “I took my profile offline.”

Jess couldn’t decide whether that was a relief or a gut punch. They didn’t have a score of their own, and now they never would. It was hard for her to imagine that River wouldn’t need to know his compatibility score with his girlfriend.

Unless …

“Oh.” She stared down at their shoes—his polished, hers scuffed. They were only a couple of feet apart, but it felt like he was standing a mile away. “I guess that’s that.”

His restless energy bled into her heartache and made her feel restless, too.

“Go,” she said, finally. “It’s a lot to digest.”

River exhaled slowly, turning his gaze up to her face. “It is.”

He searched her eyes for a long beat before bending to deliver a quick peck on her cheek. After jogging back inside to pick up his Americano, he didn’t stop at their table again on the way out the door.