“What’s so funny?”

She turned her phone around, giggling. “Someone made you a meme. Look.”

It was me mid-game, eyebrows furrowed, wearing a shelf hat, with the caption Let Him Cook. The internet stayed undefeated.

“This is not what the internet was invented for,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop the grin tugging at my lips.

“Oh, come on. This is hilarious,” she said, scrolling for more. “You’re a walking mood board. I can’t believe I know somebody famous enough to have his own spread of memes.”

“It’s not that impressive,” I replied, shaking my head.

“It is to me.” She stretched lazily. One hand drifted to her belly without thinking. She wasn’t showing yet, but I still noticed. I couldn’t help it. Part of me was already attached to the idea of watching her change, grow, and bring a life into this world. I wanted to be there for all of it. Every swollen ankle, every craving, every late-night freakout.

“You don’t find this funny?” she asked, tilting her phone and showing me another meme of me.

This one I’d seen before. It was several pictures of me with the same expression and different emotions. It was basically calling me boring.

“I’m trying to preserve the last shred of my dignity,” I said dryly.

“Well, it’s too late for that.” She grinned then paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

She looked down at her phone for a beat before turning it again, showing me an old picture of Ari and me on draft night.

“Who is this?”

“My ex.”

“What happened there?”

I didn’t want to talk about Ari, but Phileigh had damn near told me her whole life story, so it was only right. I leaned my head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before speaking.

“Ariel?” I exhaled slowly. “She was my college sweetheart. We were together for three years. But… she grew up around toxicity. She thinks arguing and fighting is a love language.”

Phileigh’s gaze softened. “The word toxic doesn’t fit you at all.”

“Exactly. One night, we were arguing about something stupid... I can’t even remember, and she told me to go live at the cemetery with my dead ass brother.” I shrugged. “That was the final straw for me. Anybody that claims to love me that can utter some hateful shit like that while knowing my pain… Yeah, she had to go.”

There was a quiet moment between us. She moved from her seat and crossed the aisle, settling beside me like she belonged there. Her perfume hit me first—warm, sweet, familiar. My body responded before my brain could catch up.

“Love is many things.” Her voice was low. “But nothing toxic comes from genuine love.”

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What you know about love, Phileigh?”