Strangely enough, with every passing hour spent next to this virtual window into Christina No. 1's room, I became more and more convinced that we didn't even need words to understand each other. She wasn't passive or boring like my mom had said. She was just calm, logical, and efficient. And that made me love her even more.
She didn't fix her mistakes immediately or frantically reach for correction tape or an eraser. Instead, she just placed a tiny dot wherever she spotted an error, then fixed both pages "in bulk" all at once. While the correction tape dried, she'd take a break and just look at me through the screen. She had to like me too. Otherwise, UKARI would never have matched us.
"Hey," I finally gathered enough courage to break the idyllic silence, but only after it had grown pitch-black outside and we'd both turned on our desk lamps. "Do you actually want to get married?"
"Yeah," Christina answered, completely calm. Her voice was so soothing.
"Do you know how to sing?" It occurred to me that our future kids would be absolutely blessed to hear lullabies in a voice like hers. (And, well, her chest would probably be a bonus for them too.)
"Only nursery rhymes," Christina blushed slightly. "I have a younger sister, but she doesn't care even if I sing off-key. As for classical stuff or playing the guitar, that's not really my thing."
"Mine neither," I said, feeling another wave of confirmation that we were deeply aligned on the inside.
"And do you..." She paused. "Never mind, let's talk about something else."
"No, no, I want to hear your question."
"Did you... like my dress?" Christina asked, not about me, which was a little disappointing, but still.
"Yeah," I said simply, letting out a breath.
"Even without the veil?"
"It was actually better without it," I replied. I'd wanted to say that I'd like her even better without the dress, but couldn't figure out a way to phrase it without sounding like a total creep. Telling her she looked prettier in casual clothes felt risky too. What if she took offense?
"I want you to see me without any makeup. Is that okay?"
"Sure," I said, a little caught off guard. "Why are you asking for permission, though?"
"Well, if we end up getting married, you're going to see me looking normal at home anyway. I just wanted to wear a little lipstick, but my mom insisted on a 'proper' first impression and slathered me in spackle, both at the Registry Office and right now." Christina made air quotes with her fingers, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "Secretly, she even wrote out a whole step-by-step game plan for the entire six months for me."
She switched back to her normal volume. "But if you don't mind... I'd kind of like to speed things up a little."
I sat there, stunned. I could have sworn she'd been blushing right along with me back at the Registry Office... or had I just made that up in my head to feel less embarrassed about myself?
"Speed things up?" I frowned.
My brain immediately jumped to undressing, not remotely over a video call, obviously, but in real life with my own hands. Still, if Christina washed off her makeup right now, I'd finally get to see her blush for real.
"That's a great idea," I added. "Honestly, I'm all for letting people get married the second they get matched."
"Well, that's a bit reckless, don't you think?" she replied calmly. "What if there's a system glitch? Official paperwork is forever, and fixing legal mistakes is expensive. Reaching an understanding between ourselves is way more efficient. How about I go wash off the makeup?"
"Sure," I agreed to wait.
Christina left and came back fifteen minutes later wearing the exact same blouse, but with a clean face. To be honest, I couldn't spot a huge difference. Smartphone cameras always do that. It's like they have built-in beauty filters automatically enabled. Or maybe those filters were being applied by my own brain, since the imprint of the girl I was falling for had been stamped into my mind back at the Registry Office. Who knows? Maybe my future mother-in-law was actually onto something with that "proper first impression" nonsense.
"Speaking of first impressions," I blurted out before Christina could ask her next question, "I actually saw your photo before our date anyway. So you were right. You could've just worn casual clothes today. Without makeup, you look..." I paused, desperately searching for the right word. I couldn't exactly call her accessible. "...cozy. Homey. I like it."
"Phew, that's a relief," Christina breathed out. "Hang on a second."
She disappeared again, but when she stepped back into the frame, she'd swapped her blouse for a comfy bathrobe.
"Wanna take a little virtual tour of my room?"
"Wait, hold on..." I completely froze.
Christina had picked up her phone and brought it closer to herself. Underneath that bathrobe, she definitely wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were sitting a little lower now, completely unconstrained and obeying the law of universal gravitation.
"Do you always walk around the house like that?" I squeaked.
"I have another robe, it's just..." She blinked, clearly oblivious to the sheer panic and lust written across my face. "Do you not like it?"
"No, why wouldn't I?" I scrambled to save face, lying through my teeth because this wasn't how I'd envisioned seeing her. "It suits you. It's not like you're trying to seduce me or anything..." Crap, I said it out loud. "...I mean, it's great that you wear casual stuff like that at home. Otherwise, I'd never be able to get used to you." What on earth am I even saying?!
"You said 'get used to' like it's a good thing," Christina said, her tone dipping into disappointment. She bit down on her thumbnail to file an edge with her teeth.
"Well, yeah," I agreed, totally failing to grasp why she was upset.
"Habit kills romance."
"Habit is just another kind of feeling," I argued, trying to soothe her. "I mean, you brush your teeth out of habit, not because it's thrilling. But that doesn't mean you love yourself any less because of it, right? By the way... have you ever been in love before?"
Christina opened her mouth to think, but a sharp voice chimed in from somewhere in her room. Her mom's voice:
"Tell your fiancé that is a terrible topic for discussion."
"Why?" Christina turned her head toward her room, giving me a view of her side profile.
"Because men like being first," her mom's voice announced sternly. "And second of all, the male brain can't distinguish between the past and the present. If you tell him about your exes, to him, it'll feel like you're cheating on him live on camera. You kids put way too much faith in UKARI, but it won't save you from basic human stupidity. You know full well that even a perfect match can be ruined if you don't watch your mouth."
Hearing her mom's lecture immediately set off every stubborn nerve in my body. Pure, unadulterated jealousy flared up inside me, not toward other guys, but toward my future mother-in-law. Because my fiancée was listening to her instead of me.
"Well, after hearing your mom say that," I declared, my voice hardening, "now I definitely have to know."
"What?" A deeply annoyed, scolding voice from my future mother-in-law echoed from somewhere in the background. "You brought this up yourself! I told you not to rush. You scare men away with your speed. Guys don't marry easy girls. If you don't believe me, ask your assignee."
"She isn't scaring me at all!" I raised my voice so she could hear me through the speaker.
Immediately, I felt like I'd overstepped. Christina and her mom were almost certainly having a silent, face-to-face argument out of the camera's frame. Christina finally turned back to the screen, looking thoroughly annoyed, though she tried her best to plaster on a friendly expression for my benefit.
"Repeat what you said about getting married right away to my mom," she urged me.
"I heard him," her mom called back from the shadows. "It's easy to promise the moon when you hide behind an 'if'."
"Look," I blurted out, fed up. "I'd take Christina to my place right this second, but it's not like you'd actually let her leave."
"And what if I do?" Her mom suddenly stepped into the frame.
"It's easy to throw out threats behind an 'if'," I shot her own words right back at her.
"I spoke to your parents today. They literally—"
"MOM!" I shouted, dropping my phone, barging out of my room, and marching straight into my parents' bedroom. "Can I bring my wife home today?!"