With every swipe, my hope of finding someone even remotely compatible dwindled. After a few more profiles, I gave up entirely, slamming the phone face down on my desk.

A small part of me lamented that I’d just blown through thirty profiles without finding a single interesting person. But I was socially awkward, I reminded myself. The most attractive thing about me was my bank account.

I snatched the phone and deleted the app before I tossed it down again, a disgusted sigh escaping my lips.

A hollow ache filled me inside as I nervously drummed my fingers on the desk, chewing my thumbnail.

With a shake of my head, I dismissed my own emotions. I had been single for a reason before I’d married Louise, and I’d be better off single after our divorce. I just had to convince her of that.

I returned to my work, laser focusing on getting something done as I shoved my disappointment down inside. But I still found myself distracted.

I toggled over to my email, a brief respite from the code lines that had blurred before my eyes, finding an email from E Dawson, a name I didn’t recognize, but the subject line caught my attention: “Translation Inquiry: Cultural Nuances.”

A click sent me into a meticulously crafted email highlighting several pieces of dialogue from my game that may not translate well along with an inquiry about what options I preferred. The suggestions were varied and coupled with pros and cons.

I stared at the words for a moment, a stark contrast to the superficial dating app interactions I’d just endured. The translator not only managed to showcase her understanding of language, but had also captured the game’s essence, as well. I wondered if they were a consumer of the product I’d created.

“You sure know your stuff,” I murmured as I hit the reply button and crafted a careful response that I hoped would match the candor of her email.

As I sent the reply, I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the sea. I could connect with a stranger over the intricacies of game translation more easily than I could connect with anyone on a personal level.

With a small sigh, I returned to staring at the lines of code. After a few seconds, I toggled into my own creation. The proximity of social interaction with the dating app had me craving some time in my private, fictional world.

The game loaded, and my avatar dropped into the world I’d created. I stood in the middle of it, staring at the surroundings. I’d built my character a nice little house in the middle of a forest. Even in the virtual world, I avoided most interaction.

I took a few steps away from my fictional cabin in search of a new quest to distract me, but before I reached the tree line, I paused, my fingers hovering over the arrow keys.

With a shake of my head, I swapped to another application. I couldn’t lose myself in a virtual world when there was work to be done.

I needed to craft a plan. After seeing the offerings on the dating app, I now understood why Louise hated them. But still, the statistics spoke for themselves. Meeting someone organically didn’t happen anymore.

But the offerings on the app were abysmal.

If Louise was determined to find love, she’d need some sort of help. And I’d provide it.

I began clacking away at the keys, typing a list of qualities Louise deserved in a partner. I’d find someone who could match her vibrancy and passion, someone who could appreciate her as much as she deserved.

I’d play her little game so long as she ended up happy. Then, at least one of us would find love.

CHAPTER 3

LOUISE

With a deep frown that I was certain would give me wrinkles, I stared at the dress in the dressing room mirror.

“Oh, it’s just perfect. What do you think, Mrs. Whitaker?”

“That’s Montgomery-Whitaker,” I snapped at the saleswoman, who lost her grin lickety-split.

Immediately regretting it, my shoulders slumped and my lower lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m sorry. I’m having a bad day.”

She brightened a little. “Well, it sounds like a new dress is just what you need.”

I stared at the gold shimmery fabric wrapped tightly around my body. “Maybe. What I really need is–”

I pulled one side of my lips back.

The woman arched an eyebrow, leaning forward as she waited for me to continue.