Page 24 of Revenge Honeymoon

That Friday night, she and Ruby locked the door to Ruby’s bedroom, sat across from one another, closed their eyes tight, and leaned in. Emily had thought about Brett Howser, the cutest boy in her class. Every girl thought he was perfect. She imagined his eyes, his lips, his face.

But because neither girl could see, they’d bumped noses. Hard. And it had hurt. She and Ruby decided it had been ‘close enough’ to a real kiss and vowed never to talk of the incident again.

Emily scratched out ‘Ruby’s Room’—as that would be weird, right?—and wrote down ‘beach’ and hoped for the best.

“Okay,” announced Sylvia. “Glad we’re all adults here because now we’re getting to the good stuff. You ready?”

“Ready!” shouted several of the drunkest brides and grooms in the room.

One man even burst out with, “Huzzah!”

“Question eleven.” Sylvia took a breath.

God, they had five more questions?

“What is the strangest place you’ve ever made love?” Sylvia read it as if she were trying out for the Glenn Close role inFatal Attraction. Her voice dipped from high to low, and she raised her eyebrows to her hairline, as if making love anywhere but in a bed in your master bedroom would be scandalous, and Sylvia would not stand for it, not one bit.

Poor Sylvia.

Emily was at a complete loss for an answer, as she didn’t remember sharing with Ruby any weird places she’d had sex. Had she ever had sex anywhere weird? Did the back of a pickup in the middle of a hay field count? Was that weird? Or was that some normal country thing that farm boys did with their girlfriends? Her college boyfriend had grown up in a small town with horses and cows and chickens and things. He had made it seem like the most normal thing two people could do in a hay field.

Her pencil hesitated over her paper.

Was Ruby having this much trouble?

When she glanced at her friend, Ruby diligently scribbled something on her baby blue paper. Then she looked over at Max. Their gazes met, and he gave her two thumbs up and a big smile, as if that might help her answers be more correct.

“Question twelve.”

Dammit.

Emily wrote down ‘truck’ and moved on.

“What is Spouse One’s most irritating habit in the bedroom?” Sylvia asked in the same high-low freaky voice.

Spouse One? She was Spouse One. She’d written it at the top of her pink paper so she wouldn’t forget. Oh, God, Ruby wouldn’t...she couldn’t...she’d never...

Emily distinctly remembered a conversation with Ruby several years ago when she’d shared intimate details of a most embarrassing thing. A bedroom thing. Never thinking, never expecting that such a question would be asked.

But Ruby needed a win. Ruby wanted a spin at the wheel. And if Emily could give that to her, she would—no matter what.

Reluctantly, Emily scribbled the words on her paper and grimaced.

* * *

Emily had been focusing so hard on writing the most difficult confession she could possibly make that she missed the last question. One-hundred percent did not hear it. Did not even notice Sylvia’s bright orange lips moving. Did not see two dozen brides and grooms scribbling until it was too late.

What was number fifteen? Oh, God, what did she say?

“All right,” Sylvia snapped. “That ends our trivia questions.” She placed a hand on her chest and took a deep breath.

Maybe Trivia Night had put her one step away from a breakdown.

The attractive woman ran a hand over her smooth, glistening hair, which had been pulled into a tight bun. “Pencils down.” Her voice mellowed. “The servers will collect your papers. Make sure your first and last names are at the top of them, so we can match you up with your spouse.”

Emily quickly wrote something in the last question box. She’d glanced at another person’s paper at her table, and it had said, ‘his intelligence.’ So maybe the question was about her partner’s best quality. Emily wrote ‘her beauty’ as her last answer.

Two servers gathered up the papers and carried them to Sylvia at the front of the room.

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