Mimi! Sweet Mimi, who he’d planned to ask to marry him at the stroke of midnight when the world ushered in a new century. He’d written a small speech, he’d ensured that his tux had enough give for him to get down on one knee, he’d even inscribed the ring with the date: 12/31/99. Mimi came from a sprawling midwestern family who spent Christmas every year at her childhood home outside Kansas City, and she had agreed to cut the visit short to join him at Middleton. To be honest, Ezra had pleaded: it was about a month ago, and Ezra was late to mail back the RSVP because he wasn’t sure if she would join him.

“Please, I want you to meet my college friends.” They were splitting Chinese food on the sofa in their one-bedroom, and it occurred to Ezra how separate his lives had been until now: there was his college life and the friends he kept in touch with (mostly just Gregory and Connor), and there was his Mimi life. Mimi worked for a dating start-up, Datify.com—she was insistent that meeting your spouse on the internet was about to become the next big trend in romance, though Ezra was dubious. Who would ever admit to such a thing? Didn’t it sound embarrassing, impersonal, desperate? But she was constantly dragging him to various events; in fact, they’d met at one. Datify frequently gauged compatibility algorithms, so they held meet and greets with free wine and cheese for singles who agreed to fill out questionnaires in exchange for a shot at love. Ezra happened to be at the bar with a poker buddy when Mimi descended and corralled him into joining.

“Here,” she’d said, flipping back her shiny red hair, handing him a clipboard. “Trust me, you’ll be awed, amazed, bowled over at what is about to happen.” Ezra was already fairly swoony at her beauty, and she probably knew it, so she turned on a magnanimous smile, and he ticked off various likes and dislikes: Was he a morning person? Was education important? Was he religious? Did he want children? What was his favorite city? Did he like hiking, did he like movies, did he like quiet time, reading, concerts, cooking, spicy foods, far-flung vacations, museums, Valentine’s Day, and baseball games? He handed the clipboard back to Mimi, and she ran her finger over each of his answers, her eyes widening as she went.

“Wait!” she squealed. “WAIT! I cannot allow you to meet anyone here.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Ezra said, half-heartedly. He didn’t really care all that much because the whole thing seemed like a gimmick. But he was trying to play along mostly because she was adorable.

Mimi ran into the back of the bar and emerged a few minutes later, her pale cheeks flushed. She pushed a different clipboard with a completed form into his hands.

“Look,” she said, nearly breathless. “Look!”

He looked. Then he raised his eyes to hers. She was grinning and thrust out a hand, and said, “I’m Mimi. I think you’re my perfect match.” And Ezra took her hand and raised it to his lips and kissed it. Because they’d both checked off “chivalrous,” and they’d also both checked off “romantic” and “honest” and “loyal,” and he knew that she would appreciate the gesture and not find it cheesy or patronizing. She giggled, then held her hand to her heart, like she’d been shot with Cupid’s arrow. They were a couple within a day. And from there, his life was about Mimi, about their future, not his past.