Chapter 3: New Paths, Old Contracts

After the fieldwork, I took time off to deal with the endless relationship tasks and think about my future. I realized Ethan Caldwell’s assessment was spot-on. But if not research, what could I do?

I rolled around on my bed, wailing.

I let out a dramatic groan, hoping the universe would send me a sign. Or at least a snack.

My mom burst in. “What are you doing, rising from the dead?”

She eyed me like I’d grown a second head. I waved her off, but she just shook her head.

“If you’re not busy, go shell those beans in the living room.”

Just then, my phone buzzed. Ethan Caldwell messaged, telling me to dress up and come to his place.

I dashed out, saying goodbye to Mom and the beans.

Thanks to all the relationship tasks lately, I was already familiar with Ethan Caldwell’s home. I showed him the grapes I’d just bought.

His apartment was tidy, full of books and rocks. I held up the grapes like a peace offering. “I saw these downstairs. They’re sweet, so I brought you some—Director Harris?!”

I wanted to crawl into a hole. I shot Ethan Caldwell a look—why didn’t you tell me you had company?

Director Harris laughed and told Ethan Caldwell I was just as lively as he’d said.

He was sitting on the couch, looking perfectly at home. I sat beside him, trying not to fidget.

I sat beside Director Harris, trying to behave. Ethan Caldwell washed the grapes.

Director Harris asked me some professional questions. No problem—I was known as a walking encyclopedia in school.

I answered as confidently as I could, hoping my nerves didn’t show. Director Harris nodded, looking thoughtful.

After hearing my answers, Director Harris smiled at Ethan Caldwell. “Very good.”

But something about his tone felt off.

He didn’t stay long before leaving.

I threw my hands up at Ethan Caldwell, demanding to know why he didn’t warn me.

He handed me an envelope.

“I wrote you a recommendation letter for a teaching assistant position in geology. I was going to have you interview with Director Harris next Wednesday, but since he stopped by today, I told him and let you meet.”

I hesitated. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve prepared.”

He shrugged, looking unapologetic. “If I told you, it would’ve felt forced. First impressions matter.”

I was touched. Ethan Caldwell never said much, but he really did help me.

Still, I was nervous about the job. “Do you really think I’m up to it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t trust me or yourself?”

His words lingered in the air, more comforting than any pep talk.

After deciding to interview, I quit my security job. When I packed up, Mr. Jenkins looked conflicted.

He hovered by the door, hands in his pockets, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

He hesitated, then patted my shoulder. “Lila, there’s no hurdle you can’t get over. After you and Ethan Caldwell break up, rest a few days and start fresh. With your brains, you’ll find a good job. Caldwell’s not all that anyway. If it’s over, it’s over.”

My mouth twitched. What wild scenario had he imagined?

I wanted to laugh, but I just nodded, grateful for his weird brand of support.

“Lila Brooks.”

Ah, that was Ethan Caldwell calling from outside, wearing a mask.

He looked like he was trying to blend in with the furniture, but his eyes were unmistakable.

“What is it?”

He said, word by word, “Honey, will you go on a date with me at Maplewood Park?”

I shivered. Was he infected with some weird virus?

He kept signaling with his eyes. He looked so awkward, almost like he was glitching. But I caught on—must be another relationship task.

I played along. “Sure, I’m done packing.”

I said goodbye to Mr. Jenkins. Ethan Caldwell nodded coolly at him.

Mr. Jenkins gave us both a thumbs-up, mouthing “good luck.” I bit back a laugh.

Outside, a few young women—probably Ethan Caldwell’s grad students—were watching us, grinning. Ethan Caldwell followed my gaze and his neck veins popped out. The girls quickly straightened up and greeted him. When they looked at me, they hesitated, then said, “Hello, Mrs. Caldwell.”

I waved, trying to look mature, but inside I was cackling.

Ethan Caldwell kept a straight face, pulling me away. I could still hear the girls whispering:

“Didn’t think Professor Caldwell would be so spicy in love.”

“Should we give a wedding gift when he gets married?”

Leaving the booth, I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

I doubled over, wiping tears from my eyes. “Did you see Mr. Jenkins’s face as we left?”

“I never knew someone’s expression could get that twisted.”

“And your grad students are brave! Did you hear them plotting wedding gifts? Hilarious!”

I tugged Ethan Caldwell’s sleeve.

He didn’t react—just kept walking, zombie-like. Uh-oh, maybe the embarrassment was too much.

I stopped him and played the relationship app’s notification I’d recorded.

“Ding~”

I mimicked the robotic voice: “Hello, the State Marriage Bureau’s ‘Matchmaker’ app is at your service~”

Ethan Caldwell shuddered, face turning red, then white. He muttered to himself.

I tried to help: “Maybe try living in another state?”

Suddenly, he snapped. Grabbing my shoulders, he shook me. “I’ve lived almost thirty years and never been this socially destroyed!”

I tried to comfort him, hugging him like I do my five-year-old nephew. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Auntie will buy you ice cream.”

Oops, that slipped out.

I quickly covered his eyes and tried to hypnotize him. “Look, a pretty lady and a little boy eating ice cream just walked by—they’re aunt and nephew!”

Ethan Caldwell grumbled, “Lila Brooks.”

“Yeah?”

“I told you, don’t take me for a fool.”

“Oh.”

Once he calmed down, I asked, “Are we still going to Maplewood Park?”

Hearing the name, he seemed to switch modes, suddenly determined. “Of course we’re going!”

I’d been to this park many times with my nephew. At the entrance, I told Ethan Caldwell to stay put while I got us oranges.

I pointed to the fruit stand by the gate. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

At the ice cream cart, the lady recommended the couples’ combo—strawberry flavor half-off today. I was about to refuse, but she pointed at Ethan Caldwell. “That’s your boyfriend, right? You two look great together.”

I blushed, but couldn’t resist the deal. “Okay, two strawberry cones, please.”

Not just for the discount—I really wanted strawberry today.

I bounced back to Ethan Caldwell and offered him ice cream.

He refused. “Is this some aunt-nephew thing?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s just that today’s couples’ strawberry ice cream is half off.”

He glanced at my pink cone. “I’ll have one. Otherwise, you’ll get a stomachache eating both.”

We strolled along, eating ice cream in the evening breeze.

The park was full of families, joggers, and couples. The sun was setting, painting the sky in orange and pink. I felt strangely at peace.

“Ding~”

“Hello, the State Marriage Bureau’s ‘Matchmaker’ app is at your service.”

Ethan Caldwell looked at me. I shook my head—this time, it really wasn’t me.

“Detected: date at Maplewood Park. System suggests riding the Ferris wheel to end your lovely date.”

I glanced at Ethan Caldwell. On Lake Superior, I’d noticed he got tense at heights and avoided looking down. He probably had a mild fear of heights. The app usually tailored its suggestions, so this was odd.

“Maybe we should skip this one.”

He replied calmly, “It’s fine.”

I got anxious. The calmer he looked, the more nervous he was.

“You’re afraid of heights. Even if we fail the task and lose privileges, I’ll appeal at the County Clerk’s Office.”

He explained it wasn’t a phobia—he’d just had a bad fall a few years ago and got nervous at heights. Nothing serious.

I couldn’t change his mind, so we went. I insisted he keep his eyes closed and hold my hand. After a moment, his large, calloused hand took mine—warm and rough from years of handling rocks.

I squeezed his hand, whispering, “Just don’t look down. Or up. Or anywhere, really. Just focus on my voice. We’ll be down before you know it.”

I steadied myself and led him onto the Ferris wheel. As the car rose, I chatted nonstop to distract him—about teaching assistants, my nephew’s tooth decay, anything.

I told him stories about my family, my dreams, even my fear of public speaking. He listened, nodding, never letting go.

At the top, I asked, “Do you want to turn off this relationship guidance mode?”

He thought for a moment. “The system’s too unpredictable. If possible, I’d like to turn it off.”

At the highest point, he sat across from me, eyes closed, the city lights blurry outside.

I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. They were soft, with a hint of strawberry ice cream.

They say even the toughest man has soft lips.

When I first asked the County Clerk’s Office attendant if there was a way to turn off guidance mode, she said yes. The system is just there to encourage romance—if it decides you’re really in love, it turns off. The easiest way is to get intimate.

It’s been over ten days since I kissed Ethan Caldwell. The guidance mode never came back, and he hasn’t contacted me since.

I passed the teaching assistant interview and have been preparing for the job at home. Everything should be going well, but something feels missing.

Ugh, if I’d known it would end like this, I’d have kissed Ethan Caldwell more that day—until his lips were raw.