I have an unplanned sneezing fit because my entire immune system is rejecting this situation. This is definitelynotgoing according to plan. I need to pull it together so she understands how rational I’m being. “What I’m trying to tell you is—I’ve known that I want to marry you for a long time. This arrangement I came up with for the month was just the quickest means to the end that I knew would be best for both of us.”
“What are you talking about? The thing about you needing a fake girlfriend for these events… Are you saying the ruse was just a ruse?” she asks.
“I’m saying it was the shortest distance between two points.”How does she not see this?!“Let me explain it in plain English—every planet in the universe follows the shortest path, using the least amount of energy. This is no different. This was the most effective and efficient way that I could think of to get you to spend time with me, get us back on the same path, with the end result of us being a married couple,” I tell her. “When I found out Merrick’s granddaughter wanted to be a ballerina right after Monty asked me to check up on you, it was like the entire universe was flashing a neon sign.”
“What did the sign say? ‘Draw up a contract for afakefake relationship with Olivia’?”
“That’s one way of putting it. Actually, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid.” I sigh. “It is not stupid. This was the most efficient, optimized way to a real relationship. I came upwith an elegant solution to a problem, and it solved a lot of your problems too, I might add.”
She doesn’t say anything. Because she knows I’m right. I hear her breathing. I hear the airport noises in the background and my heart pounding in my chest. I pull the ring box out of my pocket and realize my hands are shaking. I need to get grounded. I need to prove to Olivia that I have this under control.
Finally, she sighs and says, “I’m not a math problem that needs to be solved, John.”
“If you were a math problem, I would have figured you out a long time ago.”
After another long pause, she sniffles and says, “I have to go. I’m not mad. I’m really confused. I think you are too. I’ve never had a real boyfriend before, and most of the men I’ve spent time with in my life—aside from my dad and brother and you—wear tights, so I’m no expert on romantic relationships. Unless they’re between men who are dukes or princes and women who are peasants or swans. But I know for a fact that a pitch-deck presentation is not the kind of proposal I want from someone claiming to want to spend the rest of his life with me.” She pauses. “I love you, Johnny. I really do. But I think we need a little time apart so we can clear our heads, okay? Bye.”
“I love you too.” Silence. “Olivia?”
She hung up.
She saidI love youand then hung up.
Why would she do that?
I toss my phone onto the bed and put the ring box into my chewed-up leather briefcase.
This is not optimal.
In business, we’re trained to embrace failures as future successes, but I’ve never really failed before.
It fucking sucks.
I don’t like this feeling at all.
I collapse onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. I will allow myself five solid minutes to feel sorry for myself, and then I will get up and come up with another plan. I cover my nose and mouth with the crook of my arm when another sneezing fit comes on. I’m experiencing mild sensitivity due to a lack of exposure to canine dander. My immune system is recalibrating. It’s a perfectly normal adaptive response. I’ll be fine.
Did I eat today?
I don’t think I did.
When I go back downstairs, I find Mrs. Montgomery in the kitchen, staring at the floor, one hand on her hip, one covering her mouth.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She is startled, but she’s so happy to see me. “Oh, Johnny! Areyouokay? Were you talking to Olivia?”
“Yes. Yes, we spoke. Her flight leaves in an hour. She’s just fine. We’re… She’s fine.” I clear my throat. And then I cough. And then I sneeze.
“Oh dear.”
“It’s just allergies.”
“What are you allergic to?”
“Failure.”
“What have you failed at?”
