"He looked like his head was about to blow off," Stella laughed, replaying some of the previous fights we had seen happen in this office over the past few months. She had even managed to retrieve some video records from time much older than that.

I nodded back with a smile. The eyes of the strange man still swirled in my brain.

My head was clearly not in our conversation, and Stella instantly realised so.

"Okay, spill it." She commanded. We both knew what she was talking about, but my mind had whirred ahead already, and I had anticipated this question. The lie was ready on my lips.

"I might be cutting a string after lunch, today," I said meekly. My tone sounded unsure for a very different reason than I had implied. Stella, thankfully, bought it.

"The eval got confirmed, then?"

I nodded back. Dr. Porter had sent the notification about Christopher and Misha right after my last client had exited. It had been a short evaluation, neither of the parties had even remotely been interested in talking out their issues and solving them.

The same characters that had made the cupid babies match them through their system had aged sour and become the reason they couldn't stand each other anymore.

Another cross against the Cupid Services.

"At some point you will have to stop letting these ceremonies affect you," Stella said softly, rubbing my arm.

I kept nodding absently. No matter how long I spent working here, the worst part was always the Cutting. It was hard to believe that people would so easily give up on their so-called-soulmates. It secretly made me glad that the Hale family was no longer matched through the system. 

The process to file for the motion for Cutting was long and hard, meant for people to work on their relationship and realise that they did truly belong with each other, but many stubborn couples still made it through, ready to snip the cord binding them to their 'universe-approved', and take another shot at the system.

We had a special list of people who had had their strings cut half a dozen times or more. The only reason we could not turn down their requests was because they got entangled with another person through the cupid system and made their life miserable as well. 

Mama Hale had just one universal rule for all the workers: Get the abused out. If you were working towards that end goal, then she would be willing to be persuaded into forgiving various other transgressions.

The Cupid services made the matches, and their matchmaking division along with ours, worked tirelessly to bring love to people. The one thing that separated Soulmate Solutions from Cupid Services was that we were realists. The matches were not always good for both the parties involved, and we stepped in to make sure it never got out of hand. We were also all human, and the people working in Cupid Services were all immortals, so their moral radar had long been broken. It was why matchmaking assignments were carefully monitored by a division in Soulmate Solutions.

Those silly Cupid babies kept shooting their arrows in the dark, and we kept cleaning up after their mess.

"You want me to come with you?" Stella asked after a few minutes of eating our lunches in silence. 

I could have used her by my side, but I couldn't show that weakness. Mama Hale could be watching anytime. For all I know, this could be one of those tests that made her decide whether she wanted you to continue working in the company or kick you out.

Stella understood, of course. She knew all about the Hale-world. Stella Hale was my third cousin according to the massive family chart we had once glimpsed at. We had decided then that we stretched our line at the word 'family' till each other, and stopped using it for anyone related any further. I mean, they would technically still be family, but they would just be a 'distant relative' and that would be it. No getting into the specifics.

"I should get going now," I sighed, not in the least bit interested to go out and perform the deed. But someone had to do it, and today, that someone happened to be me.

Stella picked off the remains of her lunch from her computer table, and handed them to me, "Throw them out on your way, please. I have a gazillion customer service complaints to go through, and I think I'm settling in here for the night. Or the next decade."

"Keep an eye out," I said behind my back, walking out of the surveillance-control room. We had another one used for security, but Stella had installed her own for herself. Screens covered the room from top to bottom, some programme or algorithm always running, while the rest provided camera feed from the official cameras, and from the smaller, more conspicuous ones that she had installed.

"Of course," She called back, already deep into her work, "Can't miss seeing you bawl your eyes out after another Cutting."

Family.