Promises

Roy stood on the curb and watched the minivan disappear into traffic. For a few seconds after it vanished, he stayed exactly where he was, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched against a breeze that hadn't existed five minutes earlier. The warmth Iris had left on him still lingered. Her perfume. Her lipstick. The memory of her laugh filling the cramped space of the van.

That woman had a way of making a man feel wanted.

Not tolerated. Not settled for. Wanted.

A shaky breath escaped him as he looked down the street where she'd gone. The smart thing, the ethical thing, had been to let her go. Iris had a life. A husband. Three kids. A whole history built long before Roy Robinson stumbled drunkenly into a magical disaster disguised as a wish.

And still...

Part of him already missed her.

Which was insane.

Roy scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned softly into his palm. "Get a grip."

This was the danger, wasn't it? Not just the women getting tangled up in the wish, but him getting tangled up too. Every new relationship arrived wrapped in affection and chemistry and intensity so overwhelming it threatened to drown common sense. Elaine made him feel understood. Michelle made him feel appreciated. Zara made him feel excited and alive.

And Iris?

Iris made him feel adored. That was a hell of a ****.

A laugh escaped him, humourless and tired. "Three girlfriends," he muttered to himself. "Three. Jesus Christ, Roy. How greedy are you planning on getting?"

The answer, apparently, was very. Because if Iris had stayed another ten minutes, he would've climbed right back into that van without hesitation.

With a long exhale, Roy finally turned toward the community centre. The parking lot buzzed faintly with weekend activity. Minivans. SUVs. A scattering of balloons tied near the entrance. Somebody inside was probably celebrating something cheerful and aggressively suburban.

His stomach tightened.

When the van had rounded the building earlier, there'd been people outside. A small group near the entrance. Enough for the wish to spread like glitter in the wind.

And now he got to find out what sort of mess he'd created this time.

"Let's see what the damage is," he mumbled.

The closer he got to the building, the more obvious it became that most of the crowd had already gone inside. Only one person remained near the doors.

A young woman.

Dark brown hair hung in two neat braids over her shoulders. High heels clicked softly against the concrete as she shifted her weight. A fitted purple top left bare shoulders exposed beneath the afternoon sun, paired with a black leather skirt that probably would've made sixteen-year-old Roy forget how language worked.

Not that current Roy was doing much better.

Then he noticed the sash across her chest.

18! BIRTHDAY GIRL!

The words hit like a punch to the sternum.

"Oh, shit," Roy muttered under his breath.

The girl spotted him immediately. Everything about her changed at once. Eyes widened. Smile bloomed. Nervous energy flickered across her face so quickly it almost looked painful.

"Roy!" she whispered loudly, hurrying toward him before abruptly slowing herself down. Her gaze darted toward the building entrance. "What are you doing here? Someone's going to see you!"

Roy blinked. Okay. Right. New reality. Catch up.

"Uh..." His brain scrambled desperately for footing. "I just thought I'd come say happy birthday."

The nervousness softened instantly.

"Aww." Her grin widened, bright and genuine. "That's actually really sweet."

Then panic returned just as fast.

"But you seriously have to go. My parents are inside, my grandparents are inside, like half my graduating class is inside, and Ricky's coming any minute and you know how weird he gets."

Ricky. Boyfriend, probably. Fantastic.

"No problem," Roy said quickly. "I was just leaving anyway. Maybe we can..."

"I'll text you after the party," she interrupted immediately. "Promise."

Before he could react, she stepped forward onto her toes and kissed him.

Quick.

Soft.

Fruity lip gloss.

The kind of kiss that belonged outside movie theatres and school dances and teenage summers.

"You are ridiculously cute," she whispered against his mouth. "Seriously, how did I get so lucky?"

Guilt rose like bile in his throat.

Because she believed that.

Completely.

"Right," he said weakly. "Well. Happy birthday."

Turning away felt surreal. Every step carried that familiar sick weight in his chest. Another stranger. Another life bent sideways because he'd wanted to stop being lonely. Behind him, the girl suddenly cursed.

Then...

"Wait!"

Roy stopped. The sound of heels smacking pavement approached rapidly before she caught both his hands in hers.

Close up, she looked even younger. Careful makeup trying very hard to look older. Nervous energy buzzing under the surface. Excitement practically radiating off her skin.

"I'm breaking up with him tomorrow," she announced firmly.

"What?"

"Ricky," she clarified, like this was obvious. "This is stupid. You not being able to come to my birthday party because my boyfriend might get jealous? That's insane. I don't even like him that much anymore."

"You don't have to..."

"I said I promise."

The certainty in her voice scared the hell out of him. Another quick kiss landed on his lips before she stepped backward toward the building.

"I'll make it up to you later," she said.

A pause. Then a mischievous little smile curved across her face.

"Another promise."

And just like that, she was gone again, hurrying back toward the community centre with the energy of someone returning to her own birthday party after sneaking away to kiss a secret boyfriend.

Roy remained frozen on the sidewalk. The taste of strawberry gloss lingered faintly on his mouth.

Somewhere inside the building, people laughed. A balloon popped. And Roy Robinson slowly pulled out his phone to order an Uber while trying very hard not to spiral into a full existential collapse in the middle of a suburban parking lot.

Because apparently now he was ruining young romances now.

Wonderful.