“I know what I said. This is quite rare.”
“What does it mean?” Sam asks.
Gabby looks down to her tablet. “It means that there was nothing wrong with your relationship that caused it to die. You have compatible intellects, temperaments, goals, philosophies, moralities. You are even aesthetically compatible. Samantha, I could find no evidence of you cheating or falling in love with a third party. You weren’t annoyed by Thomas’s quirks. In fact, you seem to love Thomas quite a bit.”
“Then what happened?” She slips her hand into mine and squeezes. Her hand is small and cool and familiar. “It’s not like I wanted to break up with him. One day I just woke up feeling less.”
It hurts to hear her say it. What surprises me, though, is that I can tell it hurts her to say it, too.
“I wish I had an answer for you both,” Gabby says. “Think of it this way: back in the twenty-first century, when the elderly passed away in their sleep and a cause of death couldn’t be determined, the doctors referred to it as dying from ‘natural causes.’ I think that’s what happened to your relationship.”
She pauses to take breath. “Sometimes loves just ends,” she says.
“Can it be fixed?” Samantha asks.
“Maybe,” she says.
We go back to her office and Gabby explains the mechanics of the Do Over. Samantha and I will have the memory of our relationship erased back to when I first kissed her. Since I initiated the autopsy, I’ll have full knowledge—such as it is—of why we broke up. I’ll also know the date of the breakup. It will be up to me to prevent it from happening again.
“Does this ever work?” I ask.
“The success rate is 9.83 percent,” she says.
“That’s practically a guarantee,” I say, and she smiles. It’s the first smile I’ve seen from her all day. I watch as it spreads across her face.
“One last thing. Neither of you will have any memory of this experience.”
I lean forward in my chair. “You mean I won’t remember the autopsy?”
“No, I mean you won’t remember any of this. The last ten months of your life will be erased.”
It takes me a second to realize what she’s saying. “So I won’t remember you?” I ask. I try to catch her eye, but she’s focused on the space between Samantha and me.
“It’s just the way memory pruning works. We can’t cut from the middle of the tree.”
“It’s okay, T,” Sam says. “We’ll get to do it all again anyway.”
I don’t say anything.
Gabby stands and I understand we’re being dismissed.
“Obviously you must both consent before we can proceed. If you do decide to do it, come back tomorrow morning. We’ll have you happy again in no time.”
— — — —
I arrive on campus early the next morning. It’s an overcast spring day with the sun not quite committed to the sky yet.
A few HeartWorkers greet me as I walk across the suspension bridge toward Young Love.
“Time heals,” they call out.
I smile and nod, but don’t respond.
Young Love looks different in the hazy almost-light. The color is deeper, less like new grass.
What did people do before the Department of Dead Love existed? Did they just live with uncertainty, never quite knowing why love ended? What a cruel time that must have been.
I make my way past security and up the glass elevators to the Relationship Autopsy floor. When I get to Gabby’s cubicle, I see an older woman leaning over her shoulder. They’re both looking at something on Gabby’s tablet.
“Hi,” I say.
The woman straightens. Her name tag reads HW Danica.
“Mr. Marks,” she says. “Come right in. I was just going over some last-minute instructions with Apprentice Lee. Nothing for you to worry about. You are in very capable, very talented hands.”
She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I wonder if I’ll miss that greeting now that my time at the DODL is coming to an end.
“Hello, Thomas,” Gabby says after Danica leaves. She’s using her official voice on me. “Or would you prefer me to call you T?”
I sit. “No, no. Only Samantha calls me T. Call me Thomas. Please.”
She nods, and even her nod feels official. “Well, you are a few minutes early.” She stands up and sits back down again. “I guess you can just wait here.”
“Samantha’s not coming,” I say into the quiet.
“But she has to come in order for this to work.” She stops talking. “Oh, no. Thomas, I’m so sorry. After yesterday, I thought for sure she’d agree to the Do Over.”
“She didn’t decide against it.”
Her dimpled frown comes back.
“I decided against it.”
She stands back up. “You did? But why?”
“Gabby, sit down. Please. You’re making me nervous.”
She sits. “But you’ve wanted this for so long.”
“I know. And now I don’t want it anymore.”
“But why?”
“You have perfect Empathy Exam scores, Apprentice Lee. You can probably guess why, can’t you?”
She shakes her head.
“I don’t want to forget,” I say.
“Ten months doesn’t seem like such a bad trade so you can have her back.”
“I don’t want to forget you,” I say, making myself clear.
She clasps her hands on top of the tablet. “I see,” she says.
Oh, no. Have I made a mistake? Maybe I’d been imagining a spark, imagining that we could be at the beginning of something. “Thomas.”
“Gabby.”
“I’ve never even been out on a date. I wouldn’t know what to do. Also, you’re in love with someone else.”
“Was. I was in love with someone else.”
“You’re not saying that you’re in love with me now? I’ll have to refer you to ReBound.”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I don’t want to forget you, Gabrielle Lee. I want to know you. I want to be known by you.”
“You know we might end up right back here.”
“The HeartWorker in need of a HeartWorker,” I say.
“It could happen.”
“Or not.”
“All love ends,” she says.
“Maybe,” I say. “But it has to start somewhere.”
The Authors
Jennifer L. Armentrout @JLArmentrout
Dhonielle Clayton @brownbookworm
Katie Cotugno @katiecotugno
Jocelyn Davies @jocelyndavies
Huntley Fitzpatrick @HuntleyFitz
Nina LaCour @nina_lacour
Emery Lord @emerylord
Katharine McGee @katharinemcgee
Kass Morgan @kassmorganbooks
Julie Murphy @andimJULIE
Meredith Russo @Mer_Squared
Sara Shepard @sarabooks
Nicola Yoon @NicolaYoon
Ibi Zoboi @ibizoboi
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