Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
“Morning Afrodita,” my secretary, Priya happily greeted as I walked in through the glass doors of our office.
“Morning,” I greeted back watching as she stood up from her desk. “Please sit down, Priya,” I begged.
“I’m sorry I can’t help it,” she laughed as she quickly sat back down on her chair a slow blush colouring her cheeks and neck.
It was a nice but unnecessary gesture. Priya had an unbreakable habit of standing up from her chair every day I came into work in the mornings. She told me it was a habit her parents’ burned into her brain. She used to work in a rehabilitation center they owned and they always made her get up from her chair every morning when walked by her at the front desk. Priya said it was a sign of respect to her boss.
I thought it was a bit outrageous. Priya and I were both human beings. I wasn’t any special than she was. I respected her just as much as she respected me, I just never got out of my seat to prove that to her.
“Any messages?” I asked Priya as I grabbed some folders from her desk.
“Nothing too major,” she said eyes focused on her computer. “Just a few people offering multitudes of what we charge to hire you.”
“I guess people don’t understand it when I say, “I’m not accepting any new clients at the moment,”” I sighed gathering my things.
“Everyone thinks they have a right to be an exception,” Priya said finally looking away from the computer. “They don’t care how you feel or what you’re doing; they just care about themselves and what they want you to do for them.”
“People are selfish,” I frowned.
“So are you excited?” Priya asked framing her cheeks with her palms and giving me a knowing smile.
“For what?” I asked genuinely confused. There was nothing going on in my life apart from work.
“For your anniversary!” Priya shrieked clapping her hands together. “How long have you and Andrew been together for now?” she asked.
“35 years,” I answered smiling at her. “We’re thrilled, but Priya, it’s 3 months away.”
“And you are definitely throwing a party right?” she asked scowling, completely ignoring my previous comment. “The last time you guys threw a party was for your 30th wedding anniversary.”
“Yeah, I know,” I shrugged. “Andrew and I have just been really busy.”
“You guys are the greatest couple I’ve ever seen. You’re the definition of soulmates,” Priya gushed.
“Don’t let your husband here that,” I warned pointing my index finger at her. “You know how jealous he is.”
Priya scoffed. She was about to say something else when the phone started ringing.
I began walking to my office, leaving her to her work when I remembered something. “Oh yeah, I have a doctor’s appointment today so you can have the afternoon off.”
Priya smiled, nodded her head and continued to speak to whoever she was on the phone with.
The first thing I always did whenever I got in my office was open my emails. There was never anything really surprising or new. It was always clients thanking me or asking for my help.
Even though it took a chunk of my time, I never failed to read someone’s email. If they took the time to email me, then I’d sure as hell take the time to read and respond.
I had just finished replying to all my emails when another one popped on. It was an email from my very first clients. He was one of my old high school teachers.
“Hello Afrodita, I wish I had emailed you sooner, like years sooner, but I just didn’t know how to word what I wanted to say. They’d come to me, the words that is, but every time I tried to compose an email, I’d get stuck. It bothered me to no end because all I had to do was type up “thank you,” or something like that but those two simple words just never seemed enough. They weren’t enough to express how much gratitude and respect I have for you. They weren’t enough to manifest the difference you made in my life, not only my life but the lives of hundreds of people.
I was 18 for nearly 55 long years. I never thought I’d find my soulmate but you looked me in the eyes and told me you wouldn’t rest until you found them for me. To be honest, I thought you were full of shit. When you found my soulmate I thought it was a huge fluke, but you proved me wrong, in more ways than one.
Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that you are the reason my life is the way it is now. You are a huge factor in my everyday happiness. You saved me and I can never thank you enough.
Forever in your debt,
Mr. Perry Kerten.
PS. You are a better matchmaker than that other woman on TV. You should have your own show.”
I know the email was meant to make me feel good. It was meant to make me feel accomplished and proud of who I was and what I’d done for hundreds upon hundreds of people all over the world but it instead, it made me feel sick.
Perry was right about a few things. He was right about having my own TV show. Several years ago, I was offered my own reality television show where I’d find people’s soulmates, but it was too risky. People would start to notice.
Perry was also right to think that I was full of shit and I was a fluke. I honestly didn’t know how I went this long without being exposed. Without someone realizing I was a fraud.
Everyone I ever met praised me for being such a wonderful matchmaker. My stats were amazing. I had a 98% chance of finding someone’s soulmate but hiring me, was damn near impossible because for one, it was $150,000 to hire me and two, the waiting list to be a potential client was extremely long.
Some people thought it was a gift, others thought it was witchcraft, but to me it was a curse.
It was a curse because it seemed like I could find everyone’s soulmate but my own.
To the outside world, my husband, Andrew and I were soulmates, but in reality, he was an employee I paid to pretend to be my husband.
The beginning of our relationship was a bit unconventional. He was a one night stand who ended up staying longer than one night. Almost 35 years to be exact. We had bonded over our fear of never finding our soulmates. I told him how I made a lot of money finding other people’s soulmates but for the life of me, I couldn’t find my own. I was scared that people would think I was a phony because I didn’t have my soulmate. I’d lose my career and reputation.
Andrew had done the unthinkable and offered to pretend to be my soulmate and boy was he good at it. He was the perfect husband. He was caring, kind and thoughtful. He made me happy and sometimes, I forgot that we weren’t actually soulmates.
Yes, I felt guilty because I felt like I was holding Andrew back from living as freely as he wanted to. I was holding him back from going out into the world and finding his soulmate.
Though at the very beginning of our relationship, I did offer to find his soulmate for him, he refused saying he wanted to do it himself because the magic of it would be lost if someone else did the work for him.
Of course I had fears; I had fears that Andrew was going to resent me someday. A century from now, he wasn’t going to look at me with kindness and platonic adoration but with resentment and hatred because I was the one that got in the way of his one true love.
Though I’ve expressed this to Andrew, he’s always shrugged it off and told me he could never hate me. But if he didn’t hate me, I hated myself.
A few years into our relationship, I told Andrew a little white lie about a business trip I was going to.
I told him I was going to Scotland to find the soulmate of one of my clients, but in actuality, I had found his soulmate and I was going to meet up with her.
She was the owner of a small bakery in Scotland and luckily, she didn’t know who I was. I went to her under the false pretenses that I was looking to have a job at her bakery. Within five minutes, I knew she was it. She was absolutely perfect for Andrew. She was funny, kind and extremely intelligent. On top of all that, she was incredibly beautiful.
I spent a week there working for her until one of her customers recognized me and I left.
The first month after my return from Scotland was brutal. Every time I’d look at Andrew, I felt compelled to spill my guts and tell him the truth, but then where would that leave me?
Alone.
It wasn’t too bad. There were millions of people who married someone who wasn’t their soulmate and they were fine. They didn’t think twice about it.
It was fine. I wasn’t ruining Andrew’s life. In fact, I was giving him a longer life just by him being with me.
“Hi Andrew,” I greeted just as the line was picked up. “I’m at the clinic now.”
“Hey Dita,” Andrew said cheerfully. “How’re you feeling?”
“A little nervous, but I always feel that way,” I replied.
“Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ll be fine.”
“Don’t forget you have your appointment tomorrow,” I said reminding him.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he answered. “Hey baby, I have to go. Today is free pretzel day at work and the bakers just got here. See you at home. Love you!”
I snorted into my phone as the line went dead.
Getting to the doctor’s office always felt like a spy mission.
I rarely went, every five years or so, but when I did go; I had to make sure I was unrecognizable because it would look strange for a happily married soulmate matchmaker to walk into a plastic surgery clinic.
The idea came to me 5 years after Andrew and I got married. To an outsider, we were exactly how a soulmate couple should be, but after a few years, it’d be abundantly clear that we were in fact not soulmates when neither of us began to age.
So I told Andrew that we had to look our “age.”
Plastic surgeons work to make a person look younger, however, mine worked to make Andrew and I look older. It’s been working thus far. Surgically applying wrinkles was not as fun nor was it as easy as it seemed. It was hard physically and emotionally.
“You can go right in, Afrodita,” the receptionist said when I walked into the empty office. “Dr. Shoularte is ready for you.”
I thanked the receptionist as I took off my large sunglasses and hat, a simple basic disguise that worked every time.
“Afrodita,” Dr. Shoularte greeted, “so nice to see you.”
I could tell something was wrong. My gut twisted and my heart started to rapidly beat as I sat down on the chair Dr. Shoularte pointed to.
“Everything alright?” I asked the doctor gripping my purse to my chest.
Dr. Shoularte ignored my question and said, “As you know today is just a consultation.” He waited for me to nod before he continued, “And I’ve been looking over your file and I’m sorry to say that at this point, there’s nothing more I can do.”
I blinked at him, processing what he was saying. “What?”
“I can’t do anything else. Yes, you have the wrinkles and I can give you more but it would be useless. Your hands aren’t veiny enough. You’re skin isn’t veiny enough.”
“Wrinkles,” I mumbled.
“Yes, you have wrinkles and all but wrinkles aren’t everything,” he said. “Your body will not act the age it’s supposed to. You can’t train your brain and body to act older. Your bones can’t ache just from sheer will power. You will walk and move like an 18 year old.”
“Don’t say that!” I shouted clenching my body tighter in the chair. “I’m not 18, I am 53.”
Dr. Shoularte cocked his head and looked at me sideways as if I was some deluded child. In his eyes, I probably was.
“Afrodita,” he sighed. “There is nothing more surgery can do for you. It’s impossible.”
“You don’t understand,” I angrily cried. “I need this. My life will be ruined if you can’t make this possible.”
“Afrodita,” Dr. Shoularte sighed. “If I may be so bold to say but what were you planning to do with all of this. Have you even been trying to find your own soulmate? When we began this process 35 years ago, you told me it would only be for a few years. You cannot live like this. What did you want to happen? How old did you want to look before you died? At some point, people are going to start noticing.”
“You cannot talk to me like that,” I snapped. “I have a plan okay. In a couple of years Andrew and I are going to run away to a remote private island where no one knows what we look like and who we are and live happily ever after, okay?”
“If that’s what you want,” Dr. Shoularte breathed. “As for my part, there’s nothing more I can do.”
I could tell when I lost a fight. I quickly shout out the chair and bolted out the office, ignoring the receptionist wishing me a good day.
It was alright. It was fine. Andrew and I would find a new plastic surgeon, if not; we would run away and fake our own deaths. It was possible. I had money to last us a lifetime and more.
I had just got into the car when Andrew called me.
“Hey,” I answered already feeling better just to talk to him. “I was just about to call you. You’ll never believe what that asshole of a doctor said -,”
“Afrodita,” Andrew anxiously interrupted.
“What is it?” I asked, smile slipping from my face.
“I found my soulmate.”
I stayed silent on the phone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe.
“She’s a baker from Scotland,” he softly said. “Afrodita what are we going to do?”
I dropped the phone and laid my head on the steering wheel.
Today could not get any worse.