Page 117 of The Plus One Pact

That's something I had once but lost along the way. Something I want back.

"I won't lie," he says. "I'm open to it. But it's not about sex with other people. It's about a mindset of creating enough room to explore the world, ourselves, our interests. Separately and together."

"Maybe just threesomes," Cynthia jokes.

Amara shakes her head. "You too?"

Cynthia shrugs. "Sorry. These guys bring it out of me."

The mood in the room lightens. Turns to teenage giggles. Threesomes are a silly subject, after all.

"What do you think, Ivy?" Cynthia asks. "Do you think he's talking about sex?"

"Sex isn't separate from a relationship," I say. "It's a part of it. Sure, we bring unique… issues to the table when it comes to sex, but I've never seen a couple who had a great relationship except for sex. It's always a problem elsewhere that shows up there. Or a… good thing, I guess. A desire to explore the world and explore your sexuality, maybe." I look to Romeo, and I try to make my voice as loving as possible, as if I'm lost in this vision of our future. "I've seen a lot of relationships over the years. They come in all varieties. Some that seem strange to me. But they work because two people work at it. Monogamy isn't the only way to show you trust someone. Isn't sharing a bank account just as intimate?"

Amara nods that is true. Then she catches herself nodding and shakes her head. "You kids today… I can't keep up."

Romeo chuckles. "Not everything is about sex."

"I like your idea of marriage," I say. "That's what I want too. Someone who wants to grow with me. Not another half, but another whole."

Cynthia nods.

Everyone does, actually.

My shoulders fall in relief. A tear wells in my eyes. I don't know why I'm crying. I'm only talking about abstract ideas of marriage. Not why mine failed. Not if I can ever be happy again.

Romeo reaches out and squeezes my hand. And this time, I give in completely, falling into him, wrapping my arms around him.

One perfect moment.

And then Amara's question reminds me exactly what game we're playing here.

"Take this one upstairs," she says. "What's something you haven't told your partner that you feel you should?"

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ivy

Here's the thing. You know how I mentioned I'm going to tell my friends about this, and you said "go for it?"

Well, that was true. It was just more true than you realize.

I'm going to tell a few hundred thousand strangers on the internet about it. And, hopefully, a few hundred thousand more. If things go well, maybe an extra million.

It's technically within the realm of our agreement, but we didn't exactly specify this part…

I smooth my slacks as I settle onto the bed. We're in Romeo's bedroom today. Only it doesn't seem like the bedroom of a teenage boy. More like a room an older woman would design for a young man.

A thick oak desk, a leather chair, wine-red sheets, dark paint on the wall. I can't tell the exact color in the dim lighting. A sort of purple, maybe. Or a burgundy that matches the sheets.

"Did you decorate this room?" I ask.

Romeo falls into the big leather chair like he's auditioning for the role of an all-powerful billionaire in a cheesy movie. "You mean this East coast old money aesthetic?" He shakes his head. "No. This was the way my great-aunt did it. As a guest room. She married into money. And then she died suddenly, and we inherited the place, and we never changed it, I guess."

"What about Daniel? Is his room the same?"

"It's a little softer. More artistic," he says. "Mom added some paintings."