(And for free I will tell you: No. Because Eros, Ares and Eris all share a couple of consonants, and are siblings, the Lovers are bad news. The Trojan War was basically a big party between the three of them, fucking things up for everybody, and the line of blood went for decades before that particular chessboard settled down. Eris asked a simple question: "Who do you love more?" And the answer was so complicated that before you know it, dads are killing their daughters, sons are killing their moms, everybody gets plague like a hundred times, Andy Bellefleur getting shanked in the bath and poor Brad Pitt has the worst day ever. The Lovers means choosing. Its composition mirrors that of The Devil: a God, a force, stands above the field of war with a man and a woman in her hands, daring you to choose. Daring you to love. And whatever, whoever you choose, somebody dies. Everybody dies, and we all become something we never even knew, before love. There is nothing the slightest bit comforting about love: Love rips you apart and puts you back together. Better, if you do it right and with eyes open, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell.)

"In this position, it calls for a sacrifice in matters of the heart. You're going to have to make a choice." Lafayette drinks and Tara nods: "But it might turn out well, right?" Nope. Not in the cards. "You want to see your future?" Lafayette asks, and turns the card. But before we can see it, before he can complete the spread, Eggs runs in looking all kinds of a mess. "Tara, help me!"