“Answering a few work emails,” he said just as Roxy replied, “Setting up our new sex swing.”
There was a long pause while he blushed—predictably—and she smirked.
I sipped my wine. “So a sex swing, huh?”
“Anything for my queen,” he said. “Top of the line, of course.”
“Bargain sex swings are never a smart investment.”
He came to stand next to her, wrapping one arm around her waist and tugging her close—the pose looking easy, comfortable. Loving. Her engagement ring was a white skull with real rubies for eyes. Even after two years it was slightly unsettling to see them standing next to each other. Before Edward, my sister had only dated rough-around-the-edges bikers and musicians. In contrast, her fiancé was this eloquent, MBA-holding businessman who had put a ring on her finger within a year and would so clearly die for her.
Roxy had never been anti-relationship or anti-wedding. My sister, deep down, was more of a romantic than she often let on, and I always knew she’d find the right man to match her vivacious spirit. It’s that I’d always had a plan to achieve that goal while Roxy’s soul mate had magically appeared out of nowhere. We spent a week celebrating after she told us they’d gotten engaged. I cried happy tears until I was dehydrated.
But after that? I knew I had to get to work, as always.
“I couldn’t agree more on that assessment,” he said. “Now is this a sisterly chat? Because I wouldn’t be offended if you asked me to kindly fuck off. And I do have some interesting structural work to tackle regarding that swing.”
Her eyes slid my way, seeking clarification. “Depends on what Fi needs.”
Wine in one hand, I fished my clipboard, a file folder, and a yellow legal pad out of my shoulder bag. “I’d like to sign a contract that holds me to a higher standard of dating moving forward. And you two can serve as my witnesses.”
Edward cleared his throat. “How’s your understanding of contracts, Roxy darling?”
“Given my loose respect for the law, we’ll need your help.” Her eye roll was epic, but his laughter was warm and genuine.
“Two witnesses are better than one,” I said, sitting down at the laptop on their kitchen table. “Let me grab a template, and then, Edward, I’ll have you type and transcribe for us.”
He shed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, pausing to wink at his fiancée. I didn’t miss her uncharacteristic blush—or the way she fiddled with her many earrings to hide it.
She took the chair next to his, and I perched on the edge of the table, surrounded by two cats and two dogs eager for my attention. “Is this about that list you made when you were a teenager?”
“It sure is,” I said. “And in the past year I’ve dated five different men who fit my categories perfectly but who also dumped me, coincidentally, after we’d had sex. Dumped me by text or ghosted me or sent me emails saying they were going out of town for a while.”
“Fuckwits,” she said.
“The problem is in the pattern of behavior, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice it earlier,” I said. “But I only have eighteen months left until I turn thirty, and I won’t let another year of hard work pass me by without refining my methods. It’s only a waste of time if you don’t learn from your mistakes.”
It was Roxy’s turn to reach over and poke me. Hard. “Or you don’t have to give in to bullshit societal pressure and be married at all. And definitely not by a certain age.”
I poked her back. “Chase joy, don’t give a shit. This is my joy. You know that.”
She pursed her lips and didn’t look close to agreeing with me. But this was an argument that tended to open up old wounds for me. Our parents had a cheerful attitude about their unconventional lifestyle, and in general our motto as a family was chase joy and don’t give a shit. Essentially: do what makes you happy and ignore society’s opinions on it.
Though they believed that working as a lawyer brought me true joy, they never understood why I chose the profession in the first place or why I actively climbed a career ladder they believed shouldn’t exist.
And while Roxy and my parents had both found once-in-a-lifetime love, they remained confused about the ways I went about finding mine. Setting goals for yourself, to me, was less about societal pressures and more about being organized.
“You and Edward are lucky,” I continued. “Mom and Dad are lucky. The four of you found each other while I’m still alone.”
The truth slid out before I could take it back, so I took a long gulp of wine to hide my own grimace.
It was easier not to mention how often I felt like the odd one out.
She reached for my hand immediately, but I wasn’t here for sympathy. I was here for action. I gave her my best, hyper-exaggerated puppy-dog look until her lips twitched. “You’re such a weirdo,” she said.
“But I’m your favorite weirdo.” I tapped the laptop. “Now will you help me maximize my fucking efficiency already?”
She finally smiled. “Yes, okay, fine.”
Edward began typing. “The court will now hear opening arguments from Ms. Quinn regarding her marriage goals.”
I pulled out my legal pad where I’d scribbled some notes on the cab ride over. “I, Fiona Lennox Quinn, hereby commit to finding my soul mate and being married to him within eighteen months of the signing date. I will not engage in any physical affection, including but not limited to kissing, hand-holding, and, of course, sex until I can guarantee his commitment.”
“Wait,” she said. “This is a no fucking contract?”
“I’ll be fine with a little light celibacy,” I said. “It won’t kill me. And once I’ve found my future husband, I’m sure he’ll fuck me six ways from Sunday.”
Edward grinned from behind the screen. “I’ve always known the Quinn sisters to be true paragons of virtue.”
“Virtue has never been my strong suit.” Roxy shrugged.
“Nor mine,” I said. “And I believe sexual chemistry is as vital to marriage as anything else, and I’m not knocking sleeping around for fun. I just can’t think of another way to control this outcome.”
Besides, it wasn’t like any of the sex I’d been having this past year was especially memorable.
I ignored my sister’s eyebrow raise at the words control this outcome. “Edward, can you add this list of red flags?”
“Happily.”
“I’ll be avoiding dating men who prioritize sex over emotional connection and intimacy. I’ll definitely be avoiding men who lie.”
He typed quickly. “And do you want a list of what you are looking for in a soul mate to be included? Knowing you, Fi, I’m sure you’ve got one.”
I swirled the wine in my glass. “Career-driven. Wants to put down roots and build a home with me in New York City. Wants to get married, of course.”
His brow furrowed. “But what kind of person are they? For example, when I first met Roxy, I loved that I was terrified of her. And I never would have guessed that’s what I secretly wanted.”
She tossed her hair and gave him a kiss on the cheek that still somehow seemed filthy.