“She is eight.”
“She likes complications. She watches detective shows.”
“We tell her we are participating in a pretend competition.”
“And that we’re friends?”
Amy held my gaze.
“Are we?”
It hurt because I wanted more than any safe answer could contain.
“Yes,” I said.
“Friends.”
The car arrived. I opened the rear door. Amy stopped before getting in.
“Thank you.”
“For pancakes?”
“For staying.”
Her gratitude landed hard.
“Always,” I almost said.
The promise would have been too large. Too easy to break.
Instead, I said, “You’re welcome.”
Amy got into the car. I watched until it disappeared. Then I walked home beneath streetlights, thinking about the photograph in my phone. Thinking about six miles. Thinking about rule six. Neither party will develop genuine romantic feelings. The problem was no longer that the rule might be broken. The problem was that I did not know when it had happened.
Chapter Eleven
The Couple’s Shopping Date
Amy
At nine twelve on Sunday, June twenty-second, Dani called her sister on speakerphone and introduced our relationship as “administratively romantic.”
I closed my eyes. We were sitting at my kitchen table with coffee, toast, and the revised disclosure plan I had created after the diner. Tessa stood at the counter pretending not to listen. She had been pretending for eleven minutes.
“What does administratively romantic mean?” Gloria asked through the phone.
“It means we’re participating in the Better Together Challenge,” I said.
“That part I know.”
Dani’s tapping stopped. I continued.
“The relationship began as part of the competition.”
A pause followed. Not a shocked pause. A confirming pause.
“I knew it,” Gloria said.
