“Contemporary romance’s unicorn: the elusive marriage of
deeply brainy and delightfully escapist. . . . The Love
Hypothesis has wild commercial appeal, but the quieter
secret is that there is a specific audience, made up of all of
the Olives in the world, who have deeply, ardently waited
for this exact book.”
Chapter 13
Present
The weirdest part is how quickly everything changes.
One minute, I’m in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen,
wondering whether the smoothie blender is dishwasher
safe, thinking about my ongoing pining and my upcoming
move, about how much I’ll miss this—coming home after
work, finding twelve forks and a colander in the sink,
wondering how many of them are Liam’s.
1 Sept 2025
Chapter 12
Chapter 12
One week ago
No dimensional plane exists in which apartment hunting
(more precisely: apartment hunting while heartbroken)
could ever be pleasant. I have to admit, however, that
browsing Craigslist on the phone with my friends while I
sip on the overpriced red wine Liam got from an FGP Corp
retreat does dull the pain of the ordeal.
1 Sept 2025
Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Two weeks ago
I get the phone call on a Wednesday night, before dinner
but after I’ve returned from work.
I am remarkably composed throughout: I oh and ah in all
the right places; I ask pertinent, important questions; I
even remember to thank the caller for sharing the news
with me.
1 Sept 2025
Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Three weeks ago
When Liam arrives home, I can barely feel my toes, my
teeth are chattering, and I am more blanket than human.
He studies me from the entrance of the living room while
pulling off his tie, lips pressed together in what looks a lot
like amusement.
Asshole.
1 Sept 2025
Chapter 9
Chapter 9
One month ago
“I had lots of fun tonight.”
“Good. Thank you. I mean . . .” I clear my throat. “So did
I.”
1 Sept 2025
Chapter 8
Chapter 8
One month, two weeks ago
Rain is my favorite kind of weather.
I am most partial to summer storms, their strong winds
and hot air, the way they make me feel like I’m sitting on
the humid inside of a balloon that’s about to burst. As a kid,
I’d run outside as soon as the rain started just to get all wet
—which seemed to outrage my mother to no end.
1 Sept 2025
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Three months ago
There’s nothing wrong with the waveguide. That, I know
for sure. The transformer and the stirrer seem fine, too,
which has me thinking that the problem is in the
magnetron. Now, I’m not really an expert, but I’m hoping
that if I tinker with the filament the assembly will fix itself
and— “Is this because last night we watched
Transformers?”
31 Aug 2025
Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Four months ago
I take a careful step out of the shower, letting my toes dig
deep into the thick, soft mat. It turns out to be a lethally
poor choice, because I do it in the same exact moment
Liam opens the bathroom door to take a step inside.
31 Aug 2025
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Four months, two weeks ago
I look out of the window, trying to use my engineering
degree to approximate how many meters of snow fell
overnight.
31 Aug 2025
Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Four months, three weeks ago
There are plenty of things I wouldn’t expect Liam Harding
to do when he enters the kitchen.
For instance, he’s unlikely to whip out castanets and
flamenco his way around the island. To break into a
Michael Bolton hit from the ’80s.
31 Aug 2025
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Five months, one week ago
Dear Helena,
This is weird.
Is this weird?
This is probably weird.
I mean, you’re dead. And I’m here, writing you a
letter. When I’m not even sure I believe in the
afterlife. Truth be told, I stopped pondering
eschatological matters in high school because they got
me anxious and made me break out in hives under my
left armpit (never the right; what’s up with that?). And
it’s not like I’m ever going to figure out a mystery that
eluded great thinkers like Foucault or Derrida or that
unspellable German dude with bushy sideburns and
syphilis.
31 Aug 2025
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Five months, two weeks ago
I don’t have time for this.
I am late for work. I have a meeting in half an hour. I
have yet to brush my teeth and my hair.
I really don’t have time for this.
And yet, like the fool that I have grown to be, I give in to
temptation. I slam the fridge door, turn around to lean
against it, cross my arms as menacingly as I can, and I
stare at Liam across the expanse of the open-concept
kitchen.
31 Aug 2025
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Six months ago
“Frankly, They get on like a house on fire is the most
misleading saying in the English language. Faulty wiring?
Misuse of heating equipment? Suspected arson? Not
evocative of two people getting along in the least. You know
what a house on fire has me picturing? Bazookas.
Flamethrowers.
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