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I mentally recall the amount of times we had said ‘what if’.

Thirteen.

Thirteen reasons that made this the most pointless conversation in the world, especially considering what came out of my mouth next. It wasn’t something that I had planned to say. In fact, I had planned on staying quiet for the next two minutes, but I couldn’t. His words were playing on a loop in my mind, taking on new meanings each time I pulled them to the forefront.

“What if,” I panted as I felt his lips brush against mine again, “we leave it to fate?”

“Excuse me?” Clearly this wasn’t what Theo had wanted me to say.

I suppose he wanted me to fall at his feet and profess my love to him. I could have easily done so, but his comment ‘don’t let fear decide your fate’ kept coming back to me. If I set aside my fear of him, of this, of us, then fate might find a way to bring us together.

“If this is meant to be, as you said,” I brace myself against him, unsure if I had the strength to stand up. I had to be brave, and that was something I was far from familiar with, so I hurried with my next words. “Fate will see that it happens.”

“No,” Theo says flatly, as if doubting fate.

“Listen to me,” I stand my ground, slightly shocked to find that I could. “In here, we are in a bubble. It’s manufactured. If we leave here and trust fate, everything will fall into place organically. It’s only then we’ll know for sure that this is right.”

Theo tenses, his grip on me tightening as he got ready to argue with me. I knew what he was going to say and so I went in with my pre-emptive strike.

“We know it is right in this moment, Theo,” I take the words from his mouth. “But we need to know for sure that this is right for always. Do you know what I mean?”

Hell, at this point I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I knew what I meant.

“What do you suggest?”

Ah. Hole in the plan.

I hadn’t thought it through that far, so I have to think quickly.

“In ninety seconds we leave here,” I say, slightly frightened by the lack of time we have left together. “We go back to our own lives, and if fate works in our favor we’ll find each other. Until then, we’ll just have memories of tonight.”

“What if fate doesn’t work in our favor?” Theo asks, a petrified undertow in his voice.

“We give it a deadline, then,” I suggest. “Here’s the deal. We’ve got until the Valentine’s Masquerade of Love to let fate work it’s magic, and if we still haven’t found each other, we meet at the center of the dance floor at midnight. Are you in?”

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