Instead, I focus on the rules. We would be working in rounds. One partner goes out into the hallway and a question is asked, and then they come back and answer. Whoever has the correct answer written down gets a point.
I’m the first one to go outside while Nate is asked a question. While waiting, Trixie finds me.
“Isn’t this exciting?” she asks. “How well does your husband know you?”
I suck in a sharp breath at the idea of Nate being my husband. “U-uh, I think pretty well.”
“Aaron can be a little out of it, but he thinks he does.” She laughs. “But that’s all marriages, isn’t it?”
We’re called back in and I watch as she practically bounces over to sit next to Aaron. Is that what I would have been like with Rob?
I’m not sure I would have been.
“All right, welcome back,” the emcee says. “We’ll take turns, but the question was: What’s your partner’s favorite pizza order?”
I glance at Nate, wishing I could read his mind. He’s the picture of ease as he leans in his chair. He knows he got this right.
When it’s my turn, I sigh. My pizza order is ... odd, by most people’s standards. I have no doubt he has no qualms about making me say it out loud. “Half pineapple, half Philly steak with green bell peppers.”
A hush falls out over the crowd.
“Add why,” Nate says. I canhearthe smile on his face.
“I like both a dessert side and a savory side.”
The entire crowd erupts in whispers, and I know they’re talking about how weird my order is. Nate chuckles and turns his board around.
My exact words are on there.
“Wow,” the emcee says. “Good answer!”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Nate is usually the one who orders all of my pizza anyway.
“Did you have to include the pineapple part? These people will never respect me again.”
“Oh, I definitely did.” He laughs. “It’s time for everyone to know your shame.”
I want to glare, but it’s Aaron’s and Trixie’s turn, and I notice that he only gets it half right. Despite being outed as a weirdo, I smile. It’s nice to be reminded that Nate knows me.
For the next question, Nate leaves and I’m asked who among us is the tidiest. I answer that it’s me, adding that it’s by a long shot. It’s petty of me, but he outed my odd pizza choices, so I have a free pass.
When Nate’s asked the question, he immediately laughs. “Maisie’s the cleanest. By alot.”
I smugly turn my board around. We’re once again right.
The rest of the questions are simple. They ask for my coffee order, which Nate knows like the back of his hand, who sleeps in later, and who’s more adventurous. We get every single one of them right. We think we have it in the bag, up until the last question.
It’s my turn to stay seated and Nate leaves the room. We’vebeen lucky to avoid any romantic questions so far, but I should have known the other shoe would drop.
“When did your partner fall for you?”
All the muscles in my body tense. This is the one question I can’t answer, because Nate isn’t in love with me.
He’d said earlier to fake any romantic questions, so I could only guess what he would say.
We have thousands of memories, most of them good. I could choose one of the times we pulled all-nighters and pretended to be asleep when my parents checked in on us. Or the time when he stood up for me when some mean girls in high school were making fun of me.
I don’t like guessing. I likeknowing.
