Exactly five years, five months, and three days ago I spent a single afternoon with a guy, Noah, and promptly fell in love with him. Then he left without leaving a number or his last name.
Now he’s standing above me in the same tiny cafe we met all those years ago. And he’s a grown man with an easy smile that’s making me feel eighteen again. But I don’t fall in love, not anymore.
Which is why I make this promise to myself. I will not fall in love with Noah. Again. Even if I do have to work with him every day for the next year in his Grandma’s book store, thanks to her will.
And I will not fall in love with Mo, my online best friend who’s suggesting that we finally meet in person after two years of talking.
Because in the end, guys always leave, and happily ever afters only exist in romance novels.
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