Tayla's moving to Scotland, literally putting an ocean between us, and I've been having a shitty week at work too. Even things I'd normally find funny or amusing are depressing.

For instance, I'm up for experimenting in the bedroom, but I draw the line at sticking various foreign objects up my ass or the ass of my partner. You'd be surprised how many people don't share my philosophy. Last week it was a beer can. Granted, that guy said he did it on a drunken dare. Tonight's patient has a rubber fist jammed so far up, I think he's tasting rubber.

"The doctor will be in soon." I draw the curtain around the guy who's lying face down on the table. He came in alone, and when I asked how the fist got so far up there, he was vague on the details. The plastic-shit taste in his mouth is probably throwing him off. A few weeks ago, a night like tonight would have amused me.

"You get all the best patients," my shift supervisor says when I wash my hands for an extra long time at the sink. "You're done in five, aren't you?"

"I'm going to miss out on watching the guy have a fist extracted from his ass. Shame, really." I smirk. Instead, I'm meeting Tayla and a gaggle of soulmates at a pub not far from here. She must have figured out how to unblock my number because she texted me to confirm the date and time for the stupidly awkward meeting.

She chuckles. "Before you're done, there's a woman in curtain two who asked for you to do her intake." She waggles her eyebrows. "You've seemed a little down lately, so I thought I'd let you cross paths with an attractive woman before the end of your shift. Makes up for all the ass work you've been doing lately."

My heart kicks. "Dark hair? Slight build?"

"You've got a type, do you?" She scans the chart in her hands. "This one is short, curvy, brown hair. Pretty."

I let my breath out in a large whoosh. Of course Tayla isn't here. If she was, she'd be hurt or sick. One thing to visit me in the waiting room, another to actually come to the ER. I take the blank chart and head to the second curtained area. There, on the bed, looking as well as can be, is Jada. I haven't seen her in almost two weeks since she crashed my explanation date with Tayla.

I squeeze the clipboard and don't sit down in the seat next to the bed like I normally would. "Jada. Are you hurt or injured?"

She beams, and then she must read my unconcealed annoyance because her smile falters. "You haven't been answering my texts or phone calls."

That's because they've been non-stop since she saw me a few weeks ago. I answered the first couple, but when it became apparent she would use my offer to recover her money as a way to weasel into my life, I stopped responding.

"This is my workplace. Are you injured or ill?"

She squirms on the table. "I just—I thought maybe we could talk."

"Yeah, no. Definitely not while I'm supposed to be working." I check my watch. "My shift finished two minutes ago. I'll get someone else to assist you, assuming you've got a legitimate problem."

"Oh, I can walk you out if your shift is done." She hops off the bed.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to suppress my frustrated sigh. In an hour, I'm supposed to be meeting Tayla at a pub, and I need to shower. "Jada, I'm meeting Tayla, and she wouldn't be comfortable with us talking." I duck down to catch her gaze. "I think you should talk to someone about the mind-fuck GameSetMatch has played on you. You need to find a way to let this go."

"You love her? Really?" She stares up at me, pain and frustration mingling in her eyes.

"I do. Yeah. She's it for me."

"Then why did you break up with her six years ago? Why did it take you six years to get back together with her again?"

I huff out a breath of half amusement, half frustration. "I'm an idiot is the short answer. Probably the more honest answer is that I wasn't ready for her or for how I felt about her six years ago. I don't know why, but I wasn't."

"And you are now?" Skepticism coats her voice. "All of a sudden?"

A hint of a smile tugs at the edges of my lips. "Nothing sudden about six years, a monastery, and some therapy. There's no shame in talking to someone when you're struggling to cope."

"Like a shrink?" Her brows pinch together.

"Like a therapist or a counsellor, yeah." I keep my voice soft and even. "For whatever reason, you're clinging on to an idea that isn't real. We're not real. We don't know each other. They lied to you. I'll do what I can to get them to return your money, but we won't ever be a couple."

She rubs her face with both hands and then drags them down, her shoulders slumping. "Do you." Her voice shakes, and she stops to inhale a deep breath. "Do you know someone?"

My hand hovers over her shoulder, but I withdraw it before I make contact. "I can get you some names. We keep them at the nurse's station."

She stares at me for a beat, and tears pool in her eyes. "I just wanted it to be you so badly."

I release my breath in a whoosh because I understand that sentiment. The boxes littering the floor of Tayla's house spring to mind. Scotland. My stomach churns at the thought. "The person for you is out there, Jada. You need to be ready when they come knocking."

"Like you were ready for Tayla this time?"

I let out a mirthless chuckle, and my lips twist. "I might have been ready, but I'm still not worthy. Not sure I will be. But I've got to try." I rub my cheek, my palm grazing my stubble. "Listen, I'll grab that information for you, but I have to go, or I'll be late."

Tears spring to her eyes again, and she nods. "Okay. Thanks. You're a decent guy, Simon. Tayla's lucky."

Not sure Tayla would call herself lucky at this point, but at least one person believes my heart is in the right place.

~ * ~

Three women with no physical similarities sit in a booth at the back of the pub. I weave my way toward them, but I've only got eyes for one of them. Thankfully, she saved me the spot beside her instead of forcing me to sit next to one of the other women. 

Tayla sees me coming, and for the briefest moment, her face lights up. Then, as though she's remembered she hates me, a mask falls over her expression. She gestures toward me, and the other two women turn. One blonde and curvy, the other a dark-skinned woman with hair the color of red wine. I've met them both before, but this gathering is a tableau of false starts.

"You've both met Simon?" Tayla asks, when I arrive at the table and slide into the booth beside her.

Our shoulders brush together lightly, and a bolt of awareness streaks through me. I wish I had the right to wrap my arm around her waist, draw her tight against me, and plant a kiss on her temple. I fucked that up, so instead of looking at Tayla, I focus on the two women in front of me.

"We've met," Sherri says and flips her wine locks over her shoulder.

"Us too," Jennifer agrees, her full lips pursed. "So, what's this about getting our money back? That's really all I care about at this point."

Sherri flashes her ring finger at me in triumph. "Don't need a man, just need my cash."

"As I explained on the phone," Tayla says, and then she launches into my history with GameSetMatch.

While she talks, I go to the bar to get everyone a drink. The least I can do as their collective soulmate. When I come back, Sherri and Jennifer eye me with less hostility.

"How are you getting an appointment with GameSetMatch?" Sherri asks when I slide her gin and tonic across the wooden table.

"My sister is on a waiting list for an appointment. Their elite service only takes so many clients a week." I pass Tayla her wine, and Jennifer her diet coke. Once I'm seated, I fiddle with my beer bottle. "We're not sure how long it'll take to get in."

"Took me months," Jennifer says.

She was woman number two, so that would have been four or five years ago.

"I got a cancellation." Sherri's tone is acidic. "So lucky."

"If it takes months, Simon will be going alone." Tayla sneaks a glance at me. "I'll be in Scotland."

I can't tell from her tone if she's glad she'll be far away while I have to deal with the GameSetMatch mess or if there's a tinge of regret in her voice.

"There's a fourth woman," I admit. "I've promised to try to get her money back too."

"Why isn't she here?" Sherri stirs her drink with her straw.

"We have a more complicated history." I'm not willing to paint Jada as unbalanced, although tonight's appearance at my work suggests she's not well. She took the names I gave her and promised she'd call one of them this week. Hopefully, she can talk through her issues, whatever they might be, with a professional. Lord knows I can't help her. Look at the mess I've made of my own life.

"Ah," Jennifer says. "You actually dated her?"

I shake my head. "Not really. GameSetMatch convinced me to give her three dates. The ending was messy."

"So, you haven't dated any of your so-called soulmates? You've got no interest in finding love?" Sherri raises her eyebrows.

"We dated," Tayla says in a rush. "Didn't work out."

"Makes sense." Jennifer sips her diet coke. "There's an awkward vibe between the two of you, like you're hyper aware of each other. Must have had great sex."

Tayla chokes on her wine. "What? Why would you say that?" She's flushed.

I'm sort of enjoying her discomfort, and the use of the word great as a reference point for our sex life. Not going to complain about that one.

"I'm an Instagram Influencer. I read body language. People pay me to state the obvious." Jennifer winks at Tayla. "And your sexual chemistry is obvious. So, the missed connection must be due to a personality clash."

"Something like that," Tayla mutters. "Probably better if we focus on taking down GameSetMatch."

"Ohhh, the tea has been spilt." Sherri grins.

Tayla takes a long sip of her wine and doesn't meet my gaze. Jennifer's instincts are good or her observation skills—maybe both. Tayla and I have been wordlessly coordinating our movements in the booth to ensure we don't touch. Whenever a part of our bodies graze, the vibe between us is stilted for a beat. Awareness pulses between us, and it's a type of foreplay I normally enjoy. Ramp each other up and rip off each other's clothes the minute we're somewhere more private. I stare at my linked hands on the wooden table and try not to let my mind wander to my tightening pants. Great sex with Tayla is not where my mind should be right now.

"I need any communication you have with GameSetMatch so we can examine it. Simon's friend has a corporate lawyer who has agreed to look over the contracts and any correspondence." Tayla swirls her wine. "If we have to, we'll take this to the court of public opinion."

"I have two million followers," Jennifer says.

"Two million?" Disbelief coats my words, but her claim is a much needed distraction.

She chuckles. "Love and inter-personal relationships are a big business, hence the reason GameSetMatch is such a force. We're out here searching for a connection, hoping to meet people we can stand long enough to be with day-in and day-out. It's a tall order in love and business. People seek avenues that'll give them an advantage over others. I provide one." She shrugs and wags her finger between me and Tayla. "And I'm good at it."

"That many followers is incredible," Tayla says. "Leverage." She peeks at me, and then seems to think better of it, her gaze sliding away.

"She broke up with you, huh?" Jennifer raises an eyebrow, addressing me. "Wouldn't have called that." She leans forward, elbows on the table. "I would have pegged you for a commitment-phobe."

Her observation cuts to the bone. "You're not far off," I admit. "I've had my issues. What happened or—" I steal a glance in Tayla's direction "—didn't happen between us is down to me. Even if I'm not the one who cut ties."

Sherri sips her drink. "Did you cheat on her?"

"God, no." I rear back, insulted she thinks I'm that kind of guy.

"Whatever it is, seems forgivable to me." Jennifer waves a dismissive hand.

I'm not sure how we ended up in group soulmate therapy, but I'm not mad they're rooting for me. A tad shocking, but I won't turn down support. The fuckups might be mine, and I may be foolish for hoping we can work it out, but I can't help how I feel. An ocean between us, and I'd wait for her to come back if she asked.

"I've got nothing but time if you want to spill more tea. I don't mind hearing about other people's screwed up romantic relationships. Makes me feel better about mine." Sherri smirks.

"Uh." Tayla shakes her head. "No. We're not doing that." She shoots me a warning look. "We'll get your money back, but you're not getting any gory details about what went wrong between me and Simon."

Sherri sighs. "Spoil sport. All right." She tips up the last of her drink. "You'll let us know if we need to use our socials to demolish them? Until then, we need to forward emails and such to you, right?"

"Anything you have," Tayla agrees. "You've got my email address?"

Sherri scoots out of the booth and Jennifer follows. They both flash Tayla's business card.

Jennifer taps her card on the table and meets my gaze. "I've got a good feeling. Good luck to you two."

Both women leave the table, their heads bent together talking and laughing as they saunter to the exit.

"Her good feeling seemed to be tied to ogling you," Tayla mutters before taking another sip of her wine.

"What?" I laugh.

"After the whole 'good sex' comment, she couldn't stop staring at you."

"She said great sex, actually." I twist in the booth to stare at Tayla.

"So, we're on a waiting list?" She makes eye contact before sliding her focus back to her glass.

Guess she's not keen to dissect the difference between good and great. "Yeah, according to my sister." I decide to let the topic of Jennifer and her horny gaze go. Sex with anyone other than Tayla doesn't interest me. The woman sitting next to me has consumed my thoughts—waking or sleeping. I've been dreaming about her which has been fantastically awful. When I wake up and realize my subconscious tried to steal another slice of happiness, despair takes hold. Will I ever get another taste?

"You'll have to confront them alone."

"Should have done it a long time ago. I've known for years they're running a scam, at least for some people. Hard to say whether Ruby and Dean are the exception or the rule."

"The money is one thing, but for women like Jada who are so sucked into the process...I think I feel worse for them."

"She came to the ER tonight."

"Oh, no. She was hurt?"

"Nope." I take a gulp of my beer. "I gave her the contact details for a few therapists we refer people to."

"I can't imagine not being able to let go like that." She toys with her glass.

"Yeah," I agree, and when Tayla meets my gaze, I continue, "I understand how hard it can be to let go of something you really want."

She flushes and drinks the rest of her wine. "I should get home to Pixie."

Reluctantly, I scoot out of the booth and Tayla follows. "What are you doing with her when you go to Scotland? I can take her if you need."

The tight expression on her face eases. "Sandy is going to work with Ciro on finding and raising the puppies while I'm gone. So, we're easing into a transition for Pixie. I think I might miss her, though. It's been nice to have an animal in the house again."

"Going to have lots soon." I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Doesn't Angus have two herding dogs?"

She swallows and stares up, searching my face. The space between us crackles with awareness. So many emotions war in her eyes, I'm not sure what will stick.

"Why did you have to be such a shit?" Her voice catches, and she grabs her purse from the seat of the booth and pushes past me out of the pub.

My gut clenches at the hurt expression that settled just before she spoke. I didn't expect those words, but I'd known from her conflicted expression that whatever she wanted to say wasn't anything warm and fuzzy. I rub my face and grab my beer bottle off the table, chugging the last of it.

She's gone. But how do I ever let her go when she's entrenched so deeply in my heart? Jada's words from earlier reverberate around my head. I just wanted it to be you so badly. The ache across my chest pulses.

With a deep sigh of resignation, I drop a tip on the table and head for the exit.     

Author's Note:

Do you like long chapters, short chapters, or it doesn't matter?

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