Chapter 19: THE PORTFOLIO
The morning sun cut through my apartment windows at an angle that suggested I'd slept later than intended.
My phone showed 10:47 AM and four missed calls—two from Mike, one from Karen, one from an unknown number. The FP counter in the corner of my vision had recovered to 145 out of 175. Better than last night. Not quite full, but functional.
I started with Karen, because her call was probably good news.
"Ethan!" She answered on the first ring, breathless with excitement. "I have updates. So many updates."
"Tell me everything."
"Daniel met my parents. Last weekend. I know it's fast, but they came to visit and I couldn't NOT introduce them, and he made dinner—actual dinner, from scratch—and my mother cried. She actually cried. She said she'd given up on me finding someone real."
I smiled into the phone. "That's amazing, Karen."
"It gets better. We're looking at apartments. Together. Nothing serious yet, just browsing, but he said—" Her voice cracked. "He said he can't imagine his life without me in it. After two months. Is that crazy? It feels crazy."
"It's not crazy." I thought about their strings, the way they'd twisted together that first night at the book club. Seventy-two percent compatibility didn't just mean they'd get along—it meant they'd find ways to build something. "Some connections just work."
"I owe you everything. I genuinely owe you everything."
"You owe me three hundred dollars and a good review if you ever use Yelp."
She laughed. "Already done. Five stars. Told everyone about you. Speaking of which, I gave your number to my friend Marcus—he's been single for three years and I think you could help him."
"Send him my way."
After Karen, I called Sarah. Her update was shorter but equally positive—third date scheduled for tomorrow, things were progressing naturally, she'd never felt more comfortable with someone.
"Carlos just... gets me," she said. "We can sit in silence and it's not awkward. We can argue about movies and it's not a fight. I didn't know relationships could be like this."
[Portfolio Update: Sarah Chen ↔ Carlos Mendez]
[Status: Actively dating. Trajectory: Positive.]
[+50 EXP for relationship maintenance]
Janet answered her phone sounding nervous.
"Hey, Ethan. I was going to call you."
"Good things or bad things?"
"I... don't know yet. Rachel and I are taking it slow. Very slow. She's nervous—she just got out of a long relationship and doesn't want to rush. I'm nervous because I've never done this before. The woman thing." She paused. "Is it normal to be this scared?"
"Completely normal." I leaned back in my chair, cradling the phone against my shoulder. "You're both navigating new territory. Slow is smart."
"But what if slow means it fizzles out? What if the spark disappears before we get anywhere?"
"Janet, I've seen your connection. It's not going to fizzle." I couldn't tell her about the strings—the way hers and Rachel's pulsed toward each other with steady, patient light. But I could reassure her. "Some things are worth waiting for. This is one of them."
"Okay." She exhaled. "Okay. I trust you."
That left Mike.
I called him back expecting another enthusiastic update, maybe some grateful rambling about chakra alignment and vegan restaurants.
What I got was: "She moved in."
I sat up straight. "What?"
"Brittany. She moved in. Like, her stuff is here. In my apartment. We've been dating for four days."
"Mike. Four days."
"I know! But listen—it just felt right. She said her landlord was being weird about Mercury energy in the building, and I have a spare bedroom, and one thing led to another, and now her crystals are on my bathroom counter."
"Her crystals."
"There are a lot of them, Ethan. So many crystals."
I closed my eyes. The waiver was still in my desk drawer. His signature with the heart over the 'i.' The explicit warning about chaos and cohabitation acceleration.
"Mike, when I said she might be chaotic—"
"I know what you said. And I'm okay with it. This is what I wanted, remember? Someone who makes me feel alive? Well, I'm definitely feeling alive right now. My apartment smells like incense and she rearranged my furniture based on feng shui and I've never been happier."
Through the phone, I heard Brittany's voice in the background: "Tell him about the sunrise meditation!"
"We're doing sunrise meditations now," Mike added. "Together. At actual sunrise."
"You hate mornings."
"I thought I hated mornings. Turns out I just needed the right motivation."
After we hung up, I sat in silence, processing. Four matches. Four different stages. Karen and Daniel were heading toward something permanent. Sarah and Carlos were building something solid. Janet and Rachel were carefully, bravely moving forward.
And Mike and Brittany were living together after four days because Mercury was doing something weird in her old building.
[Portfolio Assessment: Mike Donovan ↔ Brittany Torres]
[Status: Cohabitation initiated. Acceleration detected.]
[Compatibility: 61% (unchanged)]
[Warning: Conflict probability elevated. High-passion relationships may destabilize under rapid escalation.]
I started to focus on their string—a trick I'd discovered recently, the ability to sense connections from a distance if I concentrated. It required focus and drained FP slowly, but it worked.
Mike and Brittany's string was still there. Still bright. But it pulsed oddly, flickering between intense brightness and something darker. Like a fire that couldn't decide whether to warm or burn.
Conflict probability elevated.
I'd warned him. I had a waiver. What happened next wasn't my responsibility.
But it still felt like my problem.
A knock at my door interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I opened it to find Marshall, looking apologetic.
"Hey, uh, quick thing. Couldn't help but overhear—"
"The walls are very thin, Marshall."
"Super thin. Basically paper. Anyway, did you say someone moved in after four days? Because as a future lawyer with an interest in psychology, I feel like that's—"
"A concern I've already flagged."
"Right, right. Cool." He didn't leave. "Also, Lily thinks you're running a cult."
I blinked. "A cult."
"Her words, not mine. She says you have 'unnatural influence over people's romantic decisions' and that your 'mysterious methodology' is 'suspicious at best, hypnosis at worst.'" Marshall made air quotes around each phrase. "I told her you're probably just good at your job, but she's been reading articles about love-bombing and manipulation tactics."
"Tell her my only technique is asking people what they actually want."
"That's exactly what I said! She said that sounds fake." Marshall shrugged. "Anyway, just wanted you to know. Also, can I borrow butter? Lily's making pasta."
I gave him the butter. He left. Through the wall, I heard him: "Okay, Lily, he said it's not a cult."
Lily's response, perfectly audible: "THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT A CULT LEADER WOULD SAY."
I was going to have to do something about this.
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