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“Oh,” I said, as I twisted my fingers with hers, as if I’d done this every day for years. “This is new.”

“It is. Do you like it?” I looked down at our hands. I couldn’t tell whose fingers were mine for a second.

“I’ll let you know,” I said and swung our hands together like we were little kids.

Emma squeezed my hand and I squeezed hers back.

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WE CHOSE A FANCIERbrunch spot, but one that we didn’t feel completely out of place in. We both got lobster benedicts along with fresh-squeezed juice and coffee.

“I’m still recovering from my caffeine overload, so I’m going to be good,” I said. I had the feeling I was going to crash later and need a nap if we were going to spend a third night staying up late and fucking.

“To us,” Emma said, holding up her juice glass.

“To us,” I said, tapping my glass against hers. I couldn’t resist dessert, so we ordered a piece of triple-chocolate cake to share, and I had to fight her to get bites with more frosting on them.

“I need it,” I said by way of reasoning.

“You need more frosting?” she asked, dubious.

“Yes, I need it. For my . . . skin. It’s good for the skin.” Emma snorted.

“You are completely pulling that out of your ass, but I’ll allow it.”

“Thanks, wife,” I said, and she started a little at the word. We hadn’t talked about that particular facet of our relationship.

“We are married, aren’t we?” she said, poking at a few crumbs left on the plate.

“Yeah, we are. We got drunk and that one night changed everything.” It had been the catalyst to where we were today.

“It did.” She wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

“Do you think, maybe, that your subconscious pushed you toward it because you were in love with me?” It was something I hadn’t really thought of until now, but maybe I should have.

“No, definitely not,” she said too quickly. “You can have the last bite.” Her smile was tight and brief. I knew that smile. It was her fake smile. Her “I’m fine” smile.

“Definitely not,” I echoed, and she looked up at me.

“I didn’t plan to get drunk and married in Vegas. Why would I do that?” Things had gone from lighthearted to intense and this wasn’t what I wanted for today.

“We don't have to talk about it,” I said. “Let’s just forget about it.” I ate the last bite of cake and our waiter brought the check. Emma snatched it before I could even try and reach for it.

“I’ve got this,” she said, sliding her card into the little slot and setting it upright on the table.

Things between us were weird and she didn’t take my hand when we left the restaurant, so I did it for her.

“Hey, I wasn’t accusing you of anything. I was just asking a question. That’s it.” I made her stop walking and face me.

“I know. I just . . . none of this is how I saw it going in my head.” That made me curious.

“How did you see it going?” She looked down and tried to hide a smile while her cheeks turned pink with a blush.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Hell yes I want to know.” She started walking again, dragging me along with her into the park.

“Okay, well, it’s kind of silly. So, I imagined you looking at me one day and realizing you had been madly in love with me our whole lives.” Her grip on my hand was tight, but I let it happen. I wanted to hear this story and didn’t want to distract her from telling it in any way.