“The chances of us meeting again are less than zero.” “Bzzz. Wrong again. They are slightly more than zero. I would put it at zero point fifteen percent,” he says cheerfully. I don’t know how he can be so nonchalant about it, but I guess I can’t complain. He proposed to me, and I’m almost sure he was serious. I turned him down. Publicly, too. “What if one of us seeks the other person out?” I ask. “That’s cheating.” Mal shakes his head. “It needs to happen organically. We can’t look for each other.” “But what if someone does?” I have a feeling this someone is going to be me. “Then the contract
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