Chapter 4: Terms and Conditions May Apply

Elysia stared at her phone screen like it might grow legs and run away.

Unknown Number:

Don’t worry. I asked the puddle. It forgives you.

She re-read it exactly eleven times.

Then, finally, texted back:

You sure? I think it’s still plotting revenge. I heard a splash in my sleep.

Unknown Number (Definitely Caden):

Puddles are petty like that. Want me to negotiate on your behalf? I charge in sarcastic snacks.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Elysia:

Terms and conditions?

Caden:

One coffee. Minimal chaos. Maybe a little.

Elysia:

…Fine. But only because you drive a car that looks like it judges people silently.

Caden:

It does. You passed.

The next day, she tried to pretend this wasn’t a Thing. She went to work, spilled her smoothie, tripped over absolutely nothing, and knocked over a coworker’s bonsai tree.

Life was normal.

Until he showed up.

She stepped outside for lunch, and there he was—leaning casually against a parking meter like it owed him money.

“You’re following me now?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Coincidence,” he said, holding up two coffees. “And maybe an educated guess.”

“You realize this makes you suspiciously charming?”

“It’s part of the curse,” he said with a smirk. “Want to go for a walk, Unluckiest Girl Alive?”

She rolled her eyes but took the coffee anyway. “Only because I need caffeine to survive this timeline.”

They walked in silence for a bit, the city buzzing around them.

And for once—for once—nothing went wrong.

No tripping. No car splashing her with gutter water. No bird poop from the heavens.

It was almost… suspicious.

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay. What is this? Are you some kind of—luck magnet?”

Caden blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I haven’t stubbed a toe in ten minutes. I don’t trust it.”

He laughed. “So what you’re saying is, I’m your good luck charm?”

“I’m saying that if you suddenly vanish, I’m probably getting struck by lightning.”

They reached a small park, quiet and sun-drenched. He sat down on a bench like this was all the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re really calm for someone talking to a human disaster,” she said, sitting next to him.

“I like disasters,” he replied. “At least they’re honest.”

She side-eyed him. “You’re not real.”

“Keep saying that, and I’ll start thinking you’re writing a love story.”

Her heart tripped. Hard.

So she played it off with sarcasm, like always.

“Plot twist: It’s a horror story. You die first.”

He grinned. “Worth it.”

Back to Caden’s POV (That evening)

Later that night, Caden watched the security footage his driver had saved from the day before.

Just one clip.

Her—falling, laughing, brushing off her bruises like they were old friends.

He rewound it.

Paused on the frame where she looked up and smiled.

And whispered, like it meant something:

“Something else she is.”

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Chapter 4: Terms and Conditions May Apply

Chapter 3: Celebrity Proximity Syndrome (CPS Is Real)

Oops, my life buffering again.