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“In that instant, I even forgot my own name, until I heard it being whispered from his lips. “Cassie,” he said, pulling away. I wanted this—dreamed of it, but now that it was happen- ing, I didn’t know how I’d ever want anything else. I wanted more. I wanted him. As he held my gaze, I realized that I had never felt more alive. And I knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning of our journey together.”

“Everyone expected me to fall apart after our breakup. Instead I just felt empty. I honestly couldn’t stand their pity. So I came here to get away—and heal.” “I bet you’re really angry with him. You guys were together for a long time.” “I was. But the more I think about it and analyze it, it seems like something bigger—like a phantom dark energy was repelling us, like bug spray. I don’t think we were ever meant to be together, and the acceleration of the Big Rip just in- creased over time. I think it was bound to happen eventually, I just wish it didn’t end the way it did.” “That sounds an awful lot like Fate.” “No,” I said matter-of-factly. “It’s just science.”

“To the skeptics, perhaps the events that are to follow were just a coincidence and nothing more than a series of random accidents that led me to where I am today. But to the lovers and poets and dreamers, perhaps you might agree that the story about to unfold is something more. You might even agree that there are times when coincidences are so powerful that they don’t really seem like coincidences anymore. Times when you come across events that seem too strange, or too strong, to be anything other than Fate—a grand design that incorporates everything from the career paths we take, the friends we meet along the way, and the partners we choose to spend our lives with. Times like these make you question that maybe nothing in this world happens by accident. Maybe everything really does happen for a reason, as some prewritten destiny slowly takes shape and shoves you down a path—or in my case, a mountain side.”

“After the imposed visions of my parents, I spent my last moments thinking about science—an equation, to be precise: F = mv2/2d. I know it’s not possible to cheat death, but I hoped for a last-minute ingenious MacGyver moment where I could somehow improvise or find my way out of this mess. But it didn’t matter how many scientific equations—or terms like force of impact, kinetic energy, and all three of Newton’s laws of motions—swam through my useless brain at that moment. The chance of me surviving was highly unlikely—less than 5%. And none of the years I spent studying or memorizing scientific facts or mathematical equations would save me now.”

“You’re mine.” His hand slid up the plane of my torso while he lowered himself over me, his hips nestling against mine. Yes, I thought. I had been his since Colombia, and he had been mine from the start. I gasped a little at the touch, as his body fit across mine. My breathing was ragged and savage as he leaned down to kiss me, waiting for me to respond. “I love you. I’m yours,” I said.”