Do I Know You?(42)

It’s perfect—the midday sun on my face, the steam rising faintly from the water, the wind lifting the herbal scent of dry plants down from the mountains. Perfect except for no Graham, of course, but I’m guessing he’s giving us space on purpose, not wanting to look desperate. Letting us miss each other.

Unwinding in the hot water of the Jacuzzi on the wide flagstone pool deck, I let calm come over me. I’m happy. Hopeful. The space we’re giving each other is working. Our conversations feel freer, less scripted, less freighted with expectation or disappointment. We’ve started uncovering surprising truths within this shared fiction. What I’ve felt the past few days, I recognize, isn’t that I’m meeting some new Graham, despite this being the premise of our game. Never in recent months have I forgotten his quick wit, his poise, his charm. No, what I’ve felt nestled in the Treeline’s splendor, wrapped in our layers of pretend, is like I’m rediscovering Graham.

In the years before I met him, I dated plenty of people. I spent those relationships bombarding myself with the same questions—Was this working? Was he into me? Was I into him? What would our future look like? Did we want the same things? With every musician, aspiring novelist, and psychology major who ironically needed therapy himself, those questions would surface, and I would cut and run.

When I met Graham, the first things I appreciated were his humor, his kind and patient conversational demeanor, his height, and his boyish charm. What made me fall in love with him was none of those things. I just realized one day, with Graham, I didn’t have any of those questions.

It’s what’s been so hard about the recent months. It hasn’t made me worry I’ve married the wrong person. It’s made me worry I’ve messed everything up with the right person. Which is so, so much worse. I can’t cut and run with him—there would be nowhere to run to.

When the sun starts to set, I get out of the Jacuzzi and go back to my room. I shower, return my wedding rings to my neck on their necklace chain, and take the elevator down to the restaurant. I’m dressed casually, in black jeans paired with white sneakers, the comfortable Converse I impulse-bought myself two birthdays ago. Checking my phone in the hallway, I notice I’m seven minutes early, having slightly overestimated the walk from the elevator bank to the restaurant entrance.

I’m excited for my double date with Graham. It feels like the perfect way for Vacation Planner Eliza and Investment Banker Graham to take the next step. It’s not the first time we’ve double-dated—when we were still getting to know each other, Graham introduced me to Nikki, and we went out with her and Nikki’s boyfriend at the time. Graham and I hit it off so well it was embarrassing, and Nikki broke up with her boyfriend a week later because she could feel how stark the contrast was.

I remember those early feelings of trying on the idea of an “us.” Of seeing how Graham was around his friends and not just me. He was more relaxed, more himself. Graham is wonderful at working a room—almost better than he is one-on-one, where insecurities more easily surface. Nowadays, the only chance I get to see that Graham is at his firm’s holiday party.

The only chance, that is, except for tonight.

Reaching the patio entrance, under the stunning blue-pink gradient of twilight, I decide I’ll wait outside, not wanting to be the first one in. I’m certain I have emails to delete or reply to.

Except, when I walk up to the restaurant, Graham is already there. Waiting for me, I know from the soft smile on his face and the way his eyes watch the archway from which I just emerged.

He walks over to me. I walk over to him. We meet in the middle.

“Permission to break character for a moment?” he asks.

His question surprises me. So does the magnitude of the almost-teenage excitement I feel meeting him out here, like I just got out of sixth period to find him leaning on the hood of his car in the parking lot. “Permission granted,” I reply, heart fluttering.

“Okay,” Graham says seriously. “David has been talking about this for, like, the entire day. He can’t wait. Obviously, this is huge for him.”

I smile, remembering brunch. “Yeah, I gathered.”

Graham nods. “Well—” He pauses delicately. I wait, becoming curious, until he continues. “You know how double dates can get . . . awkward, in certain circumstances.”

From the indication in his gaze, I know he’s remembering the same thing I was. Sushi in Westwood, Nikki’s favorite place, where Graham had me in tears of laughter while Nikki’s boyfriend did nothing except inquire whether she thought this was better than Nobu. Nikki texted me the next day, complete with shrugging-girl emoji, saying she’d dumped Garrett because our Sugarfish double date put into perspective just how un-fun he was.

“You’re worried we have an unfair advantage,” I say, realizing Graham’s point. We had only just gotten together when the Garrett episode happened. We have years of marriage to our name now. “You don’t want to ruin this for David by being so great together that Lindsey will feel like they have no spark in comparison.”

“Well, we are hugely compatible,” Graham notes.

“Hugely.”

“I just don’t want to outshine them too badly, you know?”

I tilt my head in resignation. “Guess we’ll have to turn down the chemistry then.”