I stepped out and followed her inside.
The bell above the door chimed softly as we entered. Warm lighting. The scent of grilled chicken and fresh bread. Soft music hummed in the background.
She inhaled deeply. “This already feels so much better.”
A server approached us with a polite smile. “Table for two?”
“Yes,” I answered.
We were seated in a booth near the window, sunlight filtering in gently. The server handed us menus and promised to return shortly. The moment we were alone, she faced me.
“Okay,” she said, dropping the menu for a second. “Tell me honestly. How likely is it that she'll invite me to another lunch?”
“On a scale of one to ten?” I mused.
She winced.
“About a seven.”
Her head snapped up. “Seven?”
“Okay, maybe a nine.”
Her lips pressed together in disbelief. “This is all her fault for provoking me.”
My laughter died down just in time for the server to return and take our orders. When the server left, I leaned back against the booth, studying her.
“You surprised me in there,” I admitted.
Her fingers stilled on the edge of the table. “Because I spoke up?”
“Because you have a master’s degree in business administration and you never mentioned it.”
She bit her bottom lip. “I honestly don't know why I kept it a secret. It's not like I'm ashamed of it.”
“You'd have no reason to be ashamed.”
“Exactly,” she said quietly. “It doesn't even make sense.”
"It doesn't."
“Are you mad at me?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m impressed. And slightly offended you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”
Her eyes softened. “It wasn’t about trust. It didn't feel relevant at the time. Our marriage is an arrangement. I'm not sure how much you want to know about me or what is necessary information to share."
That landed harder than I expected.
Because she was right.
I leaned back slowly, studying her with new awareness. There was so much I didn't know about my wife. I found myself wanting to know more about her , to uncover all her secrets, to know what made her happy, sad, angry, or annoyed. I wanted to know it all.
If someone had told me a week ago that I would be sitting across from a woman who agreed to marry me for convenience—who openly admitted she liked the financial benefits of thearrangement—and that I would actually enjoy her company… I would have laughed in their face.
Yet here I was.
“And then she really tried to convince my mother that the dog ate her homework,” she said, shaking her head. “We didn’t even have a dog.”
