Page 67 of The Proximity Factor

“Has Lanie said anything to you about it?” I needed to know.

“No, which says something. She would probably see that as a betrayal to you.”

I ran a hand through my hair. Sometimes silence spoke the loudest. Lanie’s silence spoke of her goodness and her pain. It made me feel like a jerk. “I’m not trying to hurt her.”

“I’m sure she knows that.”

“You agreed I’m doing the right thing.”

“I said I understood why, and it sounds like the right thing to do.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that maybe you can’t look at your life through the lens of your past. How many women would just up and give you thousands of dollars, not knowing if they will ever get it back? Or spend hours and hours working for free for you? And let’s not forget, if it weren’t for her, Richy the Kid wouldn’t be your biggest fan.”

“Don’t you think I know all that?” I threw myself back against the bed. “But there’s too much to risk.”

“I know, Parker,” she said soothingly. “I wish I could see into the future and tell you for sure everything will work out between you and Lanie, and that she will never leave you or steal your company. That who she is now is who she’ll always be, or even better. But I can’t. I can tell you this, though. She took a chance on you. A big fat one,” Daphne didn’t sugarcoat it. “She jumped right into the dumpster fire with you. Maybe she’s hoping you’ll do the same for her.”

I knew what she was getting at, and she was right. Lanie was incredible, and nothing I could do would ever compare to what she did for me. There was just one part I didn’t agree with: “Lanie’s life isn’t a dumpster fire.”

“How do you know? Everyone’s fires look different. I think for Lanie, hers is hoping people will really see her.”

Mrs. Davenport’s words came to mind. “You’re the first man to see Lanie for who she really is.” I could imagine her saying, Now, what are you going to do about it?

“Daphne,” I breathed out. “My fear is if we jump into that fire together, it’s going to burn us. I feel like I just barely put out old flames.”

“Parker, I know. I’m sure everything will work itself out. Lanie’s not going anywhere.”

I took some comfort in her words. Lanie and I had time. Plenty of time.

THIS WAS IT. MY FINAL video entry. Next week at this time, I would move all my throw pillows and plants back to my apartment in Goldenville. No more falling into the toilet in the middle of the night. My pantry would always be neat and organized without Pop-Tart boxes willy-nilly on the shelf, along with half-eaten granola bars Parker was “saving” for later. Then there were all the takeout containers crammed in the refrigerator in various stages of fungal growth. Who wanted to live like that, anyway?

I did. I raised my hand like someone could see me. No doubt Parker’s atrocious habits would get to me over time, but at least I would have Parker with me. Parker, who rubbed my feet while we watched Gilmore Girls, kissed me good night, and wrote sexy things in the steam on the bathroom mirror for me to see every morning. He even tried kale and Brussels sprouts for me. If that didn’t say a guy was into you, I didn’t know what did. More importantly, he always put his phone away when we were together. When we were apart, he often texted first and always responded immediately. And there was just this way he looked at me that was like a warm blanket straight out of the dryer. More than anything, I wanted to stay wrapped up in it.

What it really came down to was this: I loved Parker. Even his heathen pantry ways and his belief that women should leave the toilet seat up for men. We just needed a place with his-and-hers bathrooms. Maybe someday, I sighed before logging into the university portal for the last time.

I settled back against the headboard and plethora of pillows, getting ready for two to three hours of what, I didn’t know.

But this I never saw coming:

Dear Ms. Davenport,

Thank you for taking part in Study 19.A.2024-568. To conclude our research, please use the link and login credentials below to complete Binary Search’s questionnaire and schedule an evaluation with Dr. Lisa Horton, their in-house psychologist. Please complete the questionnaire by midnight and schedule the evaluation for no later than Wednesday, August 21. Remember, you may not discuss the questionnaire or evaluation with anyone before the research concludes on August 24. This includes Mr. Remington.

What? Was this a joke? What was Binary Search? Why did I need an evaluation with their psychologist? Did the researchers conclude I needed psychiatric help after watching all my video diaries? I admit they were all over the place, but come on.

Not caring that I was on camera, I googled Binary Search. When their website appeared, all I could do was sit there, stunned.

Binary Search. A Dating by Design company. Let us help you find your last first kiss.

Oh. My. Gosh. Binary Search was a matchmaking company.

What kind of study had I signed up for? Were they trying to find me my last first kiss? That would be great and all, but why?

I had so many questions. Lots and lots of questions.

AFTER TALKING TO DAPHNE, I grabbed my laptop, wanting to get this last video diary over and done with so I could get back to Lanie. I didn’t want to waste our last week living together, at least for the next little while. I saw Lanie as my future. For now, that was enough.

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