The Love Hypothesis

by Ali Hazelwood

Any normal person would have found Olive’s situation odd, but Adam Carlsen, who obviously considered empathy a bug and not a feature of humanity, could never understand.

The situation was depressingly simple: Olive was alone in the world. She had been for a long time, ever since high school.

“Fine. We can say that you broke up with me.” “Because that sounds credible,” he said drily, almost below his breath.

“My wife and the twins won’t mind.”

“Have you considered getting a real girlfriend?” His eyebrow lifted. “Have you considered getting a real date?” “Touché.”

“It would be complicated.” “What would be?” “To pretend that we’re dating.” “Really? It would be complicated to make people think that we’re dating?” Oh, he was impossible.

She would have loved to have someone in her life, but she doubted it was in store for her. Maybe she was unlovable. Maybe spending so many years alone had warped her in some fundamental way and that was why she seemed to be unable to develop a true romantic connection, or even the type of attraction she often heard others talk about.

I won’t date someone else.”

“Aren’t you going to add it to your calendar?” “I’ll remember,”

“Is fake-dating Wednesday over?” “Yep. Great job, team, now hit the showers. You’re free until next week.”

Clearly he was not a fan of rationalizing and working through his emotions.

“Maybe I wanted to spare you.”

I have other, more productive ways of making my grads miserable.”

You have no food, man.” “There are apples in the kitchen.” “Right. No food.”

“Well. I’m going, too.” “At least there’s that.”

“Are you going to tell her I told you that?” “Of course.” She groaned. “Don’t.” “Might also tell her about the kisses you’ve been extorting, and the fake-dating scheme you roped me into, and above all about the sunscreen—”

“Is the sunscreen going in the Title IX complaint?” His mouth twitched. “Right on the first page. Nonconsensual sunblock application.” “Oh, come on. I saved you from basal cell carcinoma.” “Groped under SPF pretense.”

“Adam, did you just offer me a used tissue?” “I…maybe.” He pressed his lips together. “I panicked.”

“You know, when I have no more friends and everyone hates me because of this fake-dating thing, I’ll be super lonely and you are going to have to hang out with me every day. I’ll annoy you all the time. Is it really worth being mean to every grad in the program?” “Absolutely.”

Adam blinked, and there was a gleam in his eyes, as if he hadn’t thought she’d leave so soon. As if he’d have liked for her to stay.

“Maybe you just pull out the best in me?”

“You just want me to stay around forever. Until you have the biggest, fattest, strongest Title IX case to ever exist.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s mandatory for everyone.” The set of Adam’s shoulders clearly broadcasted that he was, in fact, not everyone.

the constant feeling of not belonging, the never-ending suspicions that since so much of her life had been spent alone, then it would end the same way. That she’d never be worthy of someone caring for her.

What was he? Quick, Olive, quick. An immunologist? Icelandic? A giraffe? What was he?

Olive was repaying his kindness by getting ideas and developing feelings that were sure to make him feel uncomfortable.

anyway, the assumption that Adam could ever see Olive in any romantic light was preposterous. All considered, she was lucky he liked her enough to want to be her friend.

Wish you were here, then.

However buttoned-up and sulky Adam is with you, please know that he’s making an effort and he’s a million times worse with everyone else.

“He’s actually gotten a lot better, since you guys started dating.”

I’m so glad he finally scrounged up the courage to ask you out. He’d been going on and on about this ‘amazing girl’ for years, but he was concerned about being in the same department, and you know how he is…”

He was trying to be a good friend. He cared for her, and instead of being satisfied with what she currently had, she had to ruin it all and—and want more.

“Do you really not care?” she asked, curious. “That your grads might dislike you as a person?” “Nah. I don’t like them very much, either.”

It hit her then what was so special about Adam. That no matter his reputation, or how rocky their first meeting, since the very beginning, Olive had felt that he was on her side. Over and over, and in ways that she could never have anticipated, he had made her feel unjudged. Less alone.

She might never have what she wanted from Adam, but for now at least, he was in her life. That was going to have to be enough.

Enough, she repeated to herself. What you have now, it will have to be enough.

Your slides are good.” “I think they were better before you made me change the PowerPoint background.” “It was acid green.” “I know. It made me happy.” “It made me nauseous.”

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when she was sitting on her bed staring at the Boston skyline and chewing on her lunch, that Olive realized that the protein bar Adam had given her was covered in chocolate.

Wasn’t he on the social-and-networking committee? He should have been elsewhere. Socializing. Networking. Committeeing.

He looked so worried. His eyes, the line of his mouth. And yet—so patient.

You just had to go and make me fall for you, she thought, blinking against his skin. You absolute ass.

You’re the keynote speaker!” “And I keynote-spoke.”

how perfect she was, how beautiful, how long he’d wanted this, how he would never, could never let go of her.

“I should move to my bed.” He shook his head with an intensity that suggested that he didn’t want her to go, not anywhere, not ever.

She felt so safe with him. Invincible.

You’re very good at making time for others. For me.”

He leaned into her touch, as if soothed by it.

“And I could help you acclimatize, too,” he offered, significantly more bashful. “If you want to. To Boston. To Tom’s lab. Show you around, if you…if you’re feeling lonely. Buy you that pumpkin stuff.”

Because I’m starting to wonder if this is what being in love is. Being okay with ripping yourself to shreds, so the other person can stay whole.

“Whatever you want.” His voice was hoarse, and he seemed…absent. Retreated to some place inside himself. “Whatever you need.”