Measure of a Man

Agnes had been on dates before, but this one was different.

This one was transformative.

Roy wasn't like the other men she'd dated. He was better. Better looking, better company, and, more importantly, a better man. The realization had shaken her in ways she was still trying to understand. For most of her life, Agnes had considered herself an authority on class, attraction, and the invisible boundaries separating people who belonged from people who didn't. She'd developed those opinions from her parents, her reading, and countless hours consuming news and commentary that reinforced what she'd already believed. She'd been quite comfortable deciding who was worthy of her attention and who wasn't.

Then she'd met Roy.

Or perhaps she'd finally allowed herself to see him.

Discovering that she wanted to be with him had challenged nearly everything she thought she knew. The old assumptions seemed increasingly petty, even embarrassing. Roy was washing away years of accumulated ugliness, giving her the opportunity to start over and become someone better. Not merely someone who looked better or dressed better, but someone who deserved to be in his life.

And wasn't that what she'd always wanted? To be better?

Agnes had spent countless hours at the gym, researching diets, exercise routines, fashion, and beauty treatments. She'd put considerable effort into maintaining her appearance, always looking for the next improvement. Yet, if she was honest with herself, none of it had really been about becoming a better person. It had been about being better than the people around her. Her entire life had involved comparisons, weighing her own value against everyone else's and making certain she came out ahead.

Underneath all that effort had been a nagging fear that she wasn't good enough.

But in Roy's eyes, she was.

Or at least she hoped she was.

That was the remarkable thing. Roy didn't seem interested in measuring her against some arbitrary ideal. He saw her as a person, with all her flaws and potential, and somehow believed she could be better. With him, the only person she needed to compete with was her former self. Was she becoming more thoughtful? More generous? More accepting? Was she making an effort to improve because she wanted to be worthy of the happiness he offered, rather than because she needed to prove herself superior to somebody else? For the first time, Agnes thought she understood what self-improvement was supposed to mean.

A server arrived at their table carrying their drinks. She was a brown-skinned woman in her thirties, with dark hair pulled into a tidy bun and a pleasant smile. Her accent sounded vaguely British, although there was something about it that Agnes couldn't quite place. The woman set down their glasses and asked if they needed anything else.

An old reflex stirred.

In the past, Agnes might have looked down her nose at someone like this woman. The accent, the complexion, the unfamiliar background: all the little things that had once prompted her to make assumptions. The urge was still there, almost automatic, like muscle memory. Different had once meant undesirable, and undesirable had meant inferior.

What a ridiculous way to think.

Agnes caught herself before the expression on her face could change. The server was simply a woman doing her job, being pleasant and professional. There was nothing about her that deserved judgement. Her background didn't make her less intelligent, less attractive, or less deserving of respect.

Of course, Agnes still felt a little sorry for her.

The poor woman hadn't found Roy.

It was an odd conclusion, but one that seemed perfectly reasonable to Agnes. Roy was the source of so much happiness, so much warmth and possibility. Being loved by him was the greatest thing that could happen to a woman. The server wasn't inferior because of her heritage, but she was missing out on something wonderful. Agnes had been fortunate enough to find her way into Roy's life, and that was an advantage she intended to cherish.

"Anyway, Elaine is a gym teacher," Roy was saying as the server moved away. "She has two grown-up children. She's kind, generous, and her pies are incredible."

Agnes smiled, listening closely. Roy had been telling her about his girlfriends, and she'd encouraged him to talk about each of them. Normally, hearing a man describe his other romantic partners would have been intolerable. Agnes had always imagined herself as the sort of woman who deserved undivided attention, someone who should never have to share.

But Roy's life was different. His girlfriends were part of his life, and if Agnes wanted to be part of it, she needed to understand them. More than that, she wanted to like them. They were important to him, and that made them important to her.

Jessica was someone Agnes knew through work. Agnes had seen Michelle in the apartment building, although she'd only spoken with her briefly. Zara, with her big glasses and short black hair, was the woman she'd met the other evening. Roy had described each of them with such obvious affection that Agnes found herself smiling at the thought of meeting them properly.

Elaine sounded lovely. Jessica was intelligent and successful. Michelle was young, hardworking, and close to her mother. Zara was enthusiastic and apparently quite the character. Roy had even spoken about Monique, Michelle's mother, who had only recently become part of his life, just a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

It was a remarkable collection of women, and Agnes was thrilled that Roy had room in his heart for one more.

"Are you sure you have to move out?" she asked when he'd finished describing Monique. "I mean, if it's a money thing, you could have two places. Jessica's and mine. You'd still save on rent, and I'd make sure you felt completely at home with me."

Roy smiled.

Agnes loved that smile. It was warm and genuine, and whenever he directed it at her, she felt as though the sun had appeared from behind a cloud. She wanted to see it every morning. She wanted to be the reason he smiled, to make his life easier and happier in every way she could.

"Agnes," he said gently, "this is our first date. We're not even sure what this is between us yet. Maybe we should see if we make it to a second date before we start shopping for furniture together."

Her cheeks warmed. Of course. What was she doing? She was rushing things, letting her excitement get ahead of the situation. Agnes might already be certain about her feelings, but Roy was still getting to know her. Or, more accurately, getting to know the new her. He had every reason to be cautious after the way she'd treated him in the past.

"You're probably right," she admitted. "I just... I'm going to miss you. I never realized how special our building was with you just down the hall. I took having you there for granted. And now I feel like I'm losing you just when I've finally found you."

Roy reached across the table and rested his hand over hers.

"I may be moving, but that doesn't mean we can't keep getting to know each other. Why don't you come for dinner tomorrow night at Jessica's? I'm sure she won't mind having you there. You can meet the other women, too. Properly, I mean."

Agnes stared at him, delighted.

"You don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind." He chuckled. "You and I need to figure out if we work together, and I'm kind of a package deal. Meeting the rest of the package seems like a sensible next step."

"Thank you."

She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. The gesture seemed appropriate, a small expression of gratitude for his generosity. Roy laughed and gently withdrew his hand.

"Easy, girl. I'm not the pope. No need to grovel."

Agnes smiled, although she wasn't sure she agreed with him. If Roy wanted her to grovel, she would. Without hesitation. He was worth it. She'd give up anything for the chance to be his girlfriend. Her money, her possessions, her comfortable lifestyle. She'd sell her clothes, move into a tiny apartment, and take a vow of poverty if that was what he needed from her. Being with Roy would be more valuable than anything she owned.

Besides, she didn't want to be the person she'd been before. That woman had spent her life chasing status and appearances, accumulating things she thought would make her superior to everyone else. Agnes was ready to leave all that behind. She wanted something real, something meaningful, and she believed she'd found it.

By the time the date ended, she'd enjoyed a glass of red wine, a grilled steak and blue cheese salad, and the company of the most extraordinary man she'd ever met. The evening had passed far too quickly. Outside the restaurant, they discovered that they'd parked in opposite directions, leaving them with a few moments together before they had to part.

Agnes turned to face him, reluctant to let the evening end.

"Thank you again," she said, looking directly into his eyes. "For tonight. For everything. You've been so generous with me, Roy. So gracious and kind. This evening has been a dream. I hate that I have to wake up from it, but it's honestly the best date I've ever had."

"I'm glad we could do this," Roy replied, smiling. "I have to admit, I thought it might be a disaster. But you're different from before. Jessica told me you'd changed, but I wasn't completely convinced. She was right, though. You're really something."

His words meant more to Agnes than he could possibly know. Jessica had believed in her, and Roy was beginning to believe in her, too. She wanted to live up to that faith. She wanted to make certain neither of them ever regretted giving her another chance.

Stepping closer, Agnes took both of his hands.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be, Roy. Anything. You're worth it. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. Thank you for giving me a chance."

The words came out in a rush, but she meant every one of them. Roy was looking at her with that same kind expression, and suddenly the distance between them seemed impossible to tolerate.

Agnes leaned down and kissed him.

A small, sensible voice suggested she should have waited. This was their first date, after all. Perhaps she should have allowed Roy to make the first move, or at least given him the opportunity to decide whether he wanted to kiss her. But she was already holding his hands, standing close enough to feel the warmth of his body. She loved him. The impulse was simply too strong.

Roy returned the kiss.

That was all the encouragement Agnes needed. Releasing his hands, she slipped her arms around him, and his own arms soon wrapped around her. The embrace felt natural, as though the two of them had been moving towards it for far longer than a single evening.

They'd lived in the same building. They'd passed one another in the halls. She'd been so close to him for so long without recognizing what he meant to her. Now, with his arms around her, it all seemed to fit together. Even his decision to go out with her, despite her past behaviour, felt significant. He was giving her a chance, and she was going to make the most of it.

This was more than a promising first date. Agnes was certain of that.

It was destiny.