The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2)

by Aksel, Amanda

  “I was going to buy this for myself this weekend, but I think it would be perfect for your date with James.” Telly admired the ivory one-shoulder dress with the loose top and cinched-in waist. She was almost half a foot taller than me in her three-inch nude stilettos.

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s the perfect dress.”

  She put her arm around me as we walked into the store. “You’ll let me borrow it sometime, right?” I gave her a playfully reluctant smile and agreed.

  I purposely left my morning appointments free so I could get enough rest for my big night with James. That was wishful thinking because I spent most of those hours tossing and turning and thinking about how he would propose, what he would say, when we’d get married, where we’d live, our family. Basically, I imagined our entire life together.

  The morning light woke me up earlier than expected. Even with the lack of sleep, I couldn’t wait to get out of bed. My stomach fluttered with butterflies of anticipation. Twelve more hours before I would see James, and I prayed that they would fly by. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I had three Happy Birthday text messages, one from Telly, one from Holly, and one from my beloved, James. His flight home would leave soon, and I was dying to hear his voice. I avoided the urge to dial and sent a quick text.

  Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. I can’t wait to see you tonight!!

  After two cups of coffee, a few bites of undesired toast, and a completed “difficult” Sudoku puzzle, I headed to work. It was just before ten when I entered the office suite. Diana greeted me as normal. Slowly but surely. Only this time it was even slower because she added Happy Birthday to her greeting. I thanked her and headed back to my office, which was flooded with sunlight of the mid-morning. I was used to being greeted by a much subtler morning light in the earlier hours. The noticeable change in the light reminded me that there were only nine more hours to go. Before I could adjust the window blinds, I noticed a beautiful bouquet of white orchids sitting on my desk. My favorite! I rushed over to see the card.

  To my beautiful Birthday girl and Valentine. Love, James.

  My cheeks flushed and I held the card to my chest, almost hugging it. How could I not gush over James’ sweet gift? I did a little dance before sitting down at my desk to admire the flowers some more. My heartbeat seemed to increase as if it were following along to a feel-good love song. In that moment, I was so happy I could have cried, but before I decided whether or not to let the tears through, I heard it. It was like a singing waitstaff at Applebee’s.

  Happy birthday to you

  Happy birthday to you

  Katie, Andy, and Diana walked into my office wearing birthday hats and carrying a small cake with one burning candle instead of thirty-three, which would probably have been a fire hazard.

  Happy birthday, dear Marin

  Happy birthday to you.

  Diana sat the cake on my desk.

  I covered my face shyly but then smiled. “Oh, you guys, you didn’t have to do this.”

  Andy placed a cardboard, cone-shaped birthday hat on my head. “Make a wish.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, knowing that he was thinking the same thing I was . . . I was too old for such a childish tradition, but in the spirit of fun and my birthday, I made a wish and blew out the candle. They applauded and wished me happy birthday again. Diana left to cut the cake in the kitchen, Katie followed, licking the icing off the single candle, and Andy stayed behind.

  “So what’d you wish for?” he asked, sitting on the edge of my desk.

  I took my birthday hat off, careful not to smack myself with the elastic band. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

  “Can I guess?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  Then, in a tiny, girly voice he said, “I wish that James and I will get married and have a big house on a vineyard with lots and lots of children and lots and lots of wine to help subdue the pain of my boring predictable life.”

  I gave him a little shove and he snickered.

  “I’m joking!” he said.

  “Well, as a matter of fact, James and I are getting engaged.”

  He stopped laughing and his eyebrows stretched high on his forehead. “You are?”

  I nodded. “Tonight. He’s going to ask me to marry him tonight!” I wanted to scream the words.

  “Congratulations,” he said and gave me a congratulatory hug.

  “Thank you!”

  “How do you know he’s gonna ask you tonight? It’s supposed to be a surprise, right?”

  “I have my ways,” I said.

  “Your ways?” he asked with a suspicious tone.

  “Yes, my intuitive ways.”

  “Oh, because for a second I thought you were spying on him again. Now I don’t know which of your ways is more perverse.”

  I gave him another playful shove and he chuckled again.

  “Seriously, I’m happy for you. I’ll text him a congrats too.”

  “No, don’t say anything. I don’t want him to know that I know.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait ‘til tomorrow when you tell me all about it.”

  “Good.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Proposal

  The hours dragged on, one after the other, patient after patient, until it was finally time to head home and ready myself for the evening. As soon as I walked in the door, I stripped off my clothes and ran a hot bubble bath. My Pandora station played my favorite love songs, while I shaved my skin smooth. The ivory satin-like dress hung on my closet door as if it floated from my dreams. I slipped on my nude undergarments and laid the sexy lingerie I bought for the evening on my bed. Twenty minutes of curling my long, thick hair resulted in a pinned, side up-do. And just in time since it was nearly seven.

  I slipped on my metallic pumps and practiced surprised looks in the full-length mirror. “What took you so long?” I asked in a Marilyn Monroe voice with a matching pout. I’d make a terrible actress.

  What if I cried? I faked a cry, pretending to dry tears by waving my hand. I let out a sniffle. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” Cute, but a little too dramatic.

  I straightened myself out, cleared my throat, and rehearsed a genuine surprise. “Yes, of course I will.” Classic.

  At that moment, the doorbell rang and startled me off my balance. Finally, James had arrived! My poor little heart raced with the anticipation of seeing him again, kissing him and holding him in my arms. I hurried to the door careful not to trip over my heels. James let himself inside. There he stood in my living room, all six feet of him, and handsome as ever. We had only been separated a few days, but I felt like I had missed him for years.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, sweeping me up in his arms right away. Our lips joined like magnets for a gentle kiss, the kind that could only be articulated as I love you.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” I whispered as he held me tightly.

  “Me too. I missed you so much,” he replied, leaving a kiss on the top of my head. I pulled away just enough to look up at him.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said.

  “Happy Valentine’s and Birthday.” He took my hand and spun me around slowly.

  “You look . . .”

  “What?” I asked.

  He ran his eyes over me without blinking. “Like a dream.”

  I smiled shyly, almost too giddy to say the words thank you, but they seemed to come out okay.

  “This is for you,” he said, handing me a bottle of champagne.

  “What’s this for?” I took it from him.

  “It’s for later. We’re celebrating.”

  “Celebrating what?”

  “You’ll see.” He teased.

  He took my hand and we headed out.

  In the restaurant, candlelight glistened off of faces of couples having romantic Valentine’s Day dinners. Champagne bottles seemed to adorn every table next to tiny fine dining portions of decadent chocolate desserts. James and I were torn between
the same two-entrée choices, so we ordered one of each to split. Before the waitress stepped away, James asked for a bottle of their best cabernet. James and I loved to drink wine during dinner, but we very rarely ordered a bottle for just us.

  During dinner, James brought me up to speed on what I missed while he was in Montana, though I was only half paying attention. All I could think about was what he wanted to talk to me about. The food was delicious, but my nerves inhibited my appetite. I cut my food into tiny, squirrel-sized bites. Instead of eating, I continued to drink the red wine that my nerves were begging for. The waitress cleared our plates, and there was still no ring and no proposal. What was the hold up?

  “So, you said you had something important to tell me,” I said.

  James smiled and looked down as if I had caught him being cute. “Yes, there is something I wanted to ask you.” He put his hand on mine, and I leaned forward batting my eyelashes at him hoping my eyes sparkled in the restaurant’s romantic candlelight. He leaned in and kissed my hand.

  “I’ve been thinking . . .”

  “Uh-huh?” I urged on, hoping I wasn’t being too obvious.

  “I love you, Marin. I love being with you. We’ve always taken everything slowly, and that’s cool, but I think it’s time we took the next step. Don’t you?”

  I took a deep breath in. “Yes, I do.” I do, I do, I really do!

  “Good, because I think we should move in together,” he said.

  “Okay, and what else did you want to ask me?”

  This was it! He was about to pop the question.

  “That’s it.”

  That was it? I stopped breathing for a moment. I couldn’t even imagine the utter shock on my face. Live together? That’s what he wanted to ask me on Valentine’s Day and my birthday! The pride of triumph suddenly turned to the sulk of defeat. Would I never get my husband, my kids, and my house in the suburbs? Before I could respond, the restaurant broke out into a polite applause. James and I turned in each direction to see what the praise was for. The couple two tables over from ours had just gotten engaged. The woman gazed at her shiny, new engagement ring, while I would be getting a dingy old apartment key. Talk about salt in the wound. Why couldn’t I be the one people were clapping for? Was I not engagement worthy? How much longer would I have to wait to be a bride?

  “Wow, look at those two.” James applauded as the newly engaged couple embraced in a sweet kiss. “A Valentine’s Day engagement too.” He looked really happy for them.

  Was he kidding?

  “So what do you think?” James asked.

  I wanted to tell him ‘not without a ring’ but thought better of it.

  “Yes, of course.”

  He kissed my hand and smiled.

  “Good, there’s something else,” he said. My stomach tightened and I held my breath again. Maybe this wasn’t over yet.

  James reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small navy box tied with a white ribbon. It wasn’t a ring box, but a ring could still be inside. James had a habit of fooling me with my gifts. Last year for my birthday, he gave me the impression that he bought a pair earrings that I’d been eyeing for months. But, I was immediately disappointed when I felt the heavy weight of the bag. Then, I reached inside and pulled out a small box. It was the earrings. He had filled the bag with pebbles to weigh it down. “You should’ve seen your face. Gotcha, didn’t I?” He laughed.

  Yes he had.

  It all made sense, waiting until the end, throwing me off with the “moving in” question and the bigger box. Yeah, my man was clever. He slid the gift across the table.

  “Is this what I think it is?” I asked.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  My fingers trembled as I pulled the white ribbon loose. My heartbeat was so loud, I could hear it reverberate throughout the room. Slowly, I pulled the top off.

  A watch?

  “Do you like it?” he asked, obviously proud of his gift.

  I wanted to cry and scream and tell him to take it back and exchange it for a ring, a diamond engagement ring that I could wear on my finger forever and ever and ever! Instead, I sucked back my disappointment. “I love it.” I gritted my teeth and forced a smile.

  “I’m glad. Happy birthday, baby,” he said and held up his wine glass.

  After dinner, James and I went back to my place for champagne and chocolate birthday cake. I’d already had a couple glasses of wine, but I continued to shoot the champagne down my throat. In truth, the night had been a total disappointment, knocking the wind out of my sails. Getting drunk was, in my opinion, the best way to surmount the disappointment. And, for the most part, it worked. James and I had very sexy, intoxicated birthday sex. But even in the midst of our sweaty bodies grinding against each other, I still couldn’t shake the massive let down.

  I lay in bed still sipping what was left of the champagne, while James stood in my doorway brushing his teeth.

  “So what do you think, you move in with me or I move in with you?” I asked.

  “I was thinking we could find a new place, build a new life together,” he said with a mouth full of sudsy toothpaste. That sounded promising. He walked away and there was a lapse in conversation as the water ran in the bathroom sink. I glanced down at my left ring finger, mourning the loss that even a new apartment couldn’t fill. The faucet stopped. “Were you thinking of renting or buying?” I hollered. Subtext; committed or open-ended?

  He reappeared in the bedroom and slid into bed next to me.

  “Um, I guess rent,” he said, the smell of minty fluoride lingering on his breath. I was still drunk, and now I was sad. The combination could only result in one thing . . . a crying spell. Tears escaped my eyes faster than I knew what was happening. I covered my face quickly, but couldn’t control the sobbing.

  “Oh, no. What’s the matter?” he asked, now facing me on his knees. He rubbed my shoulders lightly, and I looked up at him. How had this special night come to this?

  “It’s this whole moving in thing,” I said, trying to regain my composure.

  “What do you mean? You don’t want to move in together?” He looked somewhat desperate, like he expected me to break it off.

  “No, baby, I do.” I took his hand. “I’m just . . .” I couldn’t get the words out. Like if I admitted them to James he’d think I was being insecure, and no one likes to be with someone who’s insecure.

  “What?” His voice was quiet and he tried to make eye contact.

  “I’m afraid,” I said, looking down at his hand in mine.

  “Afraid of what?”

  “I’m afraid once we move in together, you’ll find some annoying flaw and want to break up or find someone new.”

  “Aw, Marin, that’s not gonna happen,” he said softly, shushing me. He wasn’t taking it seriously.

  “You don’t know that.” I folded my arms against my chest.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He swept me up and rocked me like a baby. I could feel the love and certainty radiate from his body like a beam of sunlight. “It’s gonna be great.”

  “I was kinda hoping we could get married first.” I uttered and just like that, he dropped his arms.

  “Really? I didn’t know you wanted to get married.”

  Had he lost his damn mind?

  “Of course, I want to get married. Don’t you?” I could sense his body tensing. Was he really that surprised?

  “Eventually, I guess. We’ve never talked about it before.”

  “What do you mean? We’ve talked about it plenty of times.”

  He looked dumbfounded. “No, we haven’t.”

  Sure, I knew men had selective hearing, but shit. I paused, thinking back to our previous conversations about marriage or getting married, but I couldn’t remember a single one. We talked about our life together, where we’d live, and children we’d have. Marriage goes without saying in those conversations, right?

  “We’ve talked about having kids,” I said.

>   “Yeah, eventually.”

  “Eventually? James, I’m thirty-three years old. It’s not like we have all the time in the world.” My boiling blood pulsed through my veins and my cheeks felt hot. He was acting like we were having a casual relationship, like we weren’t in love, like we didn’t want to be together for the rest of our lives. He was silent longer than I would have liked. I hated that I was forced to ask, but it was now or never. “So what, you don’t want to marry me?”

  “No, it’s not that,” he blurted.

  “Then, what?” This conversation had turned me into one of those crazy, clinging women. Ugh.

  “I just don’t know if we’re ready to get married yet . . . we’ve only known each other for a couple of years.”

  “And that’s not enough?” How much more time did he need? I was ready. I knew he was the one.

  “Why don’t we move in together first and go from there?” He danced around the words, careful not to disturb the hive.

  It was the old try-it-before-you-commit-to-it proposal, saying no by saying yes. What was he really saying? Since, apparently, this was our first discussion on the topic, it was probably best to drop it for now, even though I was tempted to bully him into proposing. Like Grandma had said, I was no spring chicken!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Girls Night Out

  “Well, let’s see it!” Andy stood in the doorway of my office. I looked over the piles of files on my desk and saw his smiling face through the stacks. I regretted saying anything about the engagement. Why did I rely on a hunch instead of concrete proof like say, a ring? Now I’d have to explain that there was no engagement, and I was wrong. Both of which were easier said than done.

  “There’s nothing to see,” I answered quietly, hoping he’d suddenly develop a case of amnesia and forget that I ever mentioned it. But, no such luck.

  “That’s weird. There is usually a ring that comes with a marriage proposal.” Now he was being condescending.

  “There was no proposal, Andy. I’m not engaged.” He sat down in one of the chairs and I braced myself for his reaction. Surely, he would go into one of his “I told you so” speeches and explain why I still had so much to learn about love and marriage, blah, blah, blah.