Ryan doesn’t back down. “It’s not about that, Mia. It’s about giving Jack a little push. Making things feel real for him. You know he won’t take this seriously unless you make it interesting for him.”

When I realize his suggestion is starting to make sense, I turn away abruptly, wheeling my cart toward the counter. Emma walks beside me, and I can feel the heat of her stare against my face.

“Just out with it. Okay?”

She giggles. “I actually think it’s a good idea, Mia. You don’t have to date him. You could just go along with it since he’s just trying to help. It might help Jack get out of his head.”

“I don’t know, Emma.”

Emma just shrugs, casual as always. “Well, yeah. You’ve been pushing him to connect with someone. Why not make it fun?”

“Nah. It won’t work.” I shake my head stoically.

“I don’t see why not,” she answers. “Well, except you’re worried about sitting at a table with Jack and another woman,” she says, matter-of-factly.

My heart skips a beat, and I freeze. “Excuse me? What does that mean?”

“I’m just saying.” There’s a slight teasing edge in her voice. “You want Jack to find someone, but maybe deep down, you don’twant to because it’ll be tough for you to watch him with someone else.”

“Emma, that’s not funny. I don’t think about him that way. I don’t care who Jack dates. I’m the one doing the matchmaking. I don’t need to be bothered by who he chooses,” I argue hotly, even though my stomach feels queasy at the thought of sitting across a table and watching Jack interact with another woman. What if he kisses her? My goodness. What’s wrong with me?

Ryan wheels his cart past her again at that moment, and as he waves us goodbye, I call, “Hey, Ryan.”

“Yeah?” He glances back at me.

“I’ll agree to the double date. But it’s not because I want to date you. Okay? Please, let’s keep things platonic. It’s because I need to make this work for Jack. That’s it.”

Ryan’s face lights up immediately. “Great! Just send me the details when you can.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

Thirty minutes later, I’ve dropped Emma off at her place, and now I’m on my way to Jack’s cottage. The thought of walking into that cottage again makes my stomach twist. I’m not sure what to expect from him after the way we left things last time.

Usually, I’d just text him the details of the next date, but this one is different. It features Ryan and me, and I think we should discuss it so I know how comfortable he is with it. At the end of the day, this is about him, and he might want privacy with Mirta.

I pull into the driveway of Jack’s cottage, and my heartbeat speeds up as I park the car. The house looks quiet, almost serene, like no one is home. I sit in the car for a moment, staringat the front door. I know I should just get out and go in, but my nerves are getting the best of me. After everything that’s happened between us—the kiss, the awkwardness that followed in the car ride back to town—I’m not sure what kind of reception I’m going to get.

I take a deep breath, then step out of the car and walk toward the door. I knock, and before I even get a chance to reconsider, the door opens.

Jack stands in the doorway, looking surprised to see me. He’s wearing a casual hoodie and sweatpants, his hair a little disheveled, like he just woke up from a nap. There’s a brief moment where we just stand there, looking at each other, before he steps aside and gestures for me to come in.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and a little hoarse.

“Hi,” I reply, stepping inside. “You were napping?”

“Nah, I was already up.” He sits on the opposite couch. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Really?” I say, my voice betraying a hint of surprise. “Why were you expecting me?”

Jack hesitates, then his gaze drops to the floor, like he’s collecting his thoughts. “It’s about the picture I saw on the wall that day. I want to apologize for?—”

I cut him off quickly, my frustration bubbling up. “Stop.”

I can’t even look at him. Here we go again. I knew this would happen. This is why I didn’t like anyone finding out. I didn’t want to be known as the girl who battled an illness and won. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. It’s exhausting to keep explaining myself.

“Let’s move past that, please,” I say firmly, my voice tight with the effort to keep my emotions in check. I hand him an envelope, hoping the change in topic will distract us both. “I have your next date here. Her name is Mirta.”

Jack doesn’t immediately take the envelope. Instead, he just looks at it, his eyes lingering on the paper like he’s unsure whether to open it. His jaw tightens, and I can see the hurt flash in his eyes. He looks… disappointed. I want to say something, but the words don’t come. I feel like I’ve just thrown up another wall between us.