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Story: Mister Romance

I thought Jimmy might forget to send me the details on his benefits package, but when I checked my email on Monday as I sipped my coffee before work, I realized I had severely underestimated him. My pulse raced at the proof of his sincerity. Insurance information. It was such a weird thing to send someone you were dating. Summary of benefits said it all. It felt more like a merger than a marriage proposal. I was almost afraid to look. Was I seriously thinking of marrying him for medical benefits and a house? I suppose people married for worse reasons, but it wasn’t something I’d envisioned for myself. I wanted the real deal. A romantic proposal, a man who loved me. Eventually.

I didn’t want to settle. Love mattered. What my parents had, that was the dream.

Admittedly, Jimmy was legit great. He was thoughtful and caring through my hospital visit. Someday, I’d hope for someone just as supportive as a spouse.

Our first kiss made my blood fizz with glitter and effervescent bubbles before my heart kicked back, but he didn’t so much as lift a finger to touch me during our day together yesterday. Sitting next to him and not touching had been torture. Had I scared him off with my medical issues? Maybe someone in the ER pulled him aside and told him to ease up on the glitter kisses and I’d be fine. If only it were that easy.

He did still want me...didn’t he? I wanted Jimmy’s kisses, his touches—the ones that made me sparkle from the inside. We hadn’t discussed if we’d be sharing a bed in this hypothetical marriage. Women have needs. I’d never make it more than a few months without dying of frustration. And it would bother me if either of us were having our needs met elsewhere. I couldn’t do it. If we didn’t sleep together, I’d have to invest in Duracell stock.

I opened the document outlining his benefits.Damn.They were good.Really good.The difference between bankruptcy and solvency good. To torture myself, I checked my bank balance. Then I read my deductible. One was definitely higher than the other, and the math didn’t go in my favor. My finances would be tight once the ER bills arrived, but I could probably make it. The medication costs would tip me over the edge. One bad hit I could take, but if I had to pay for the prescription every month? Jimmy’s pharmacy benefits were white glove concierge medicine in comparison to mine.

I did my best to focus on my clients throughout the day and push thoughts of medical bills out of my mind. I needed to listen to what the fascia in my clients’ bodies was telling me about where to apply pressure, not obsess and exert my anxiety onto my clients. My lunch break aligned with Lisa’s, and I was grateful to have someone to talk to.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as I moved to the fridge to grab my lunch.

Her forehead wrinkled as she examined me. Lisa was older than me but took good care of herself. She had a wiry strength in her small frame. Her dark hair was cut in a shiny bob around her shoulders, and her expression shone with sincerity.

“I’m okay.”

Her brows went up. “Really? You’re not just saying that? You look pale to me.”

I shrugged. “I feel normal. Maybe more tired between clients. I’ve been trying to take it easy.”

“So, spill. Am I going to be a matron of honor?” she asked when I pulled up a chair in the small kitchen that served as our break room.

Our spa was a house converted into various therapy rooms, and the small kitchen featured a scuffed linoleum floor and some truly hideous green cabinets. Luckily, the table and chairs were well-worn and comfortable. It wasn’t much, but it was better than eating in the reception area or in our rooms. I didn’t like to stink up my space with the smell of my leftovers. Spaghetti was delicious, but the garlicy odor wasn’t very relaxing. It clashed with the lavender infused oil I liked to use for clients.

“Ah, no. I don’t think so. I’m still thinking about it,” I said.

“What is there to think about? Smokey Bear is, well,hot. And single. And asked you to marry him to help you with your medical debt. He seems like a keeper.”

Lisa and my id were clearly in cahoots. “How did you and Randy meet again? Weren’t you high school sweethearts who’d known each other forever?”

“Yes. I’m living vicariously through you. Go for it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The death of my dreams. Heartbreak. Divorce. The usual.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” She examined me more closely. “You like him that much? Or you’re not that mercenary?”

“Both. If I wouldn’t ask my parents for money, why would I ask a relative stranger? It feels like I’m taking advantage of him,” I said. “I moved out here to be independent. Leaning on Jimmy at the first sign of trouble doesn’t feel like autonomy.”

Lisa held up a finger. “One: he asked you. Hevolunteered. Two: didn’t he say he’d get something out of it, too?”

I shrugged. “He says it would help him get into a house.”

“Sounds like you both get something out of the deal. What’s wrong with that?”

“Absolutely nothing. I’m not sure my contribution would be equal to his. Plus, what about the complications?”

Lisa’s brows raised. “Complications? Like what? The potential for steamy bedroom games? I don’t see the problem there. Sounds more like a benefit than a complication.”

“He’s only proposing we stay married for a year. In theory, it should be everything I’ve ever wanted. A short-term fix to avoid derailing my business plans. I’m not sure about a relationship with a built-in expiration date. What if it’s too good to give up? What if it changes me? What if I want more than a one-year arrangement?”

“Did he really say that?”

“He claimed to want something drama-free. He said we could dissolve after a year if either of us met someone else.”

“Do you think he’d be looking?”