99 Strikes and I'm Out

"Your heart rate went three beats over. This wedding test is void."

Christina Asbille raised a hand and switched off the projector.

The wedding program covering the whole wall went dark in an instant. All that was left was the monitor stuck to my chest, its red light still blinking with every beat.

The look she gave me was cold, as if she were looking at a report written in the wrong format.

"Luke, I've told you countless times. The most important thing in a marriage is emotional stability.

"Your breathing went off just now during the vows.

"If a single vow can make you this nervous, are you going to fall apart the moment we run into a real conflict?"

I looked down at the number on the screen.

Eighty-six.

Three beats more than the eighty-three she'd set as the limit.

Those three beats had just failed me for the ninety-ninth time.

Dr. Wes Perry sat beside us and gently explained on my behalf, "Christina, don't be so strict. Luke was probably just too excited about the wedding."

Christina frowned. "Excitement is no excuse for losing control."

The more he sounded like the good guy, the more I looked like the unreasonable patient.

It had been that way for seven years.

When I got jealous, my possessiveness was out of balance.

When I felt wronged, I had a cognitive bias.

When I went quiet, I had a tendency toward the silent treatment.

Wes always had the most professional terms on hand to translate my hurt into my fault.

And of course, Christina believed him.

She said he was the youngest emotional management expert in the country and the most stable person she'd ever met.

So I was made to learn from him.

To speak slowly and evenly, the way he did.

To just smile when I was misunderstood, the way he did.

To keep my eyes free of even the faintest ripple whenever she came close, the way he did.

But I wasn't Wes.

I loved Christina.

How could anyone love someone and never feel a ripple?

When I didn't say anything, Christina held out the clipboard. "Write your own self-review. Cause of the loss of control, corrective plan, target for the next test."

I didn't take it.

Her brows drew down at once. "Luke."

Right on cue, Wes stood up and, with a smile, took the ring box from beside my hand. "How about I demonstrate it once for Luke? Let him see how the wedding should go when someone is truly stable."

Christina didn't refuse.

She even let out a breath of relief. "All right."

I'd saved two years of bonuses to buy that ring.

Our initials were engraved on the inside of the band.

Yet she let Wes pick it up and walk to the center of the wedding simulation stage.

The projector lit up again.

A pure white floral arch, vow prompts, the path for the embrace.

I'd gone through seventeen revisions of this program with her.

Every detail carried my hopes.

But the man standing in the groom's spot now wasn't me.

Wes looked at Christina, his voice as even as a classroom demonstration. "I promise to respect your ideals, understand your sense of order, and accept all of you."

A smile reached Christina's eyes.

It was faint, but it made my throat tighten.

When it was time to exchange rings, Wes paused. "This isn't really appropriate, is it?"

Christina said, "It's just a test."

He lowered his head with a smile. "Then I'll do as you say."

The moment the ring slid onto his ring finger, a few of the friends and relatives off to the side started whooping and clapping.

"Now that's emotional stability."

"Christina, you and Dr. Perry look perfect together."

"Don't take it personally, Luke. Learn a thing or two from him."

Christina didn't stop them.

She just turned to look at me. "Did you see that clearly?"

As I looked at her, she suddenly felt like a stranger.

So it was true. A person really could wake up in a single moment.

Not with a screaming fight. Not by slamming the door and walking out.

Just by seeing your own ring on someone else's finger and hearing the person you'd loved for seven years say, "Once you've learned it, you'll qualify to get married next time."

I laughed.

Christina froze. "What are you laughing at?"

I walked over, took the agreement I'd signed long ago out of my bag, and held it out in front of her. "Christina, the test is over."

She glanced at the title, and her face changed. "An agreement to terminate our engagement?"

I nodded. "I'm not taking any more tests."