How well can you really ever know a person? I ask myself this, looking over at Tom. I consider asking his opinion. But I won’t. We’re backing out of the drive, and this could be a mistake. Mom left. Maybe I should have stopped her. Was I wrong to send her on her way? I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything right now. I don’t know where we’re going or how long we’ll be gone. I don’t even know if I have packed the proper attire. I do know it was the first time I’d ever seen my mother look proud of something I accomplished, and even if that something was landing a man, I couldn’t bear to let her down. Sometimes you take what you can get.

Speaking of which, what I didn’t get is a chance to drive my new car. Maybe I should have insisted. But Tom was adamant. Planes don’t wait. Before I knew it, he was hurling me out the door.

Maybe I should tell the driver to pull over and let me out. I don’t know.

If I keep my eyes focused straight ahead, I’ll come up with a plan. I’ll figure it out.

Tom briefly glances over at me. Then he looks down at the phone in his hand. “Just have to tie up a few loose ends real quick.”

We’re seated in the backseat adjacent to one another. I study the back of the driver’s head. If we’re going to have a fight, and we are, I realize now is the best time to have it.

“Are we even going to talk about what happened?”

My husband’s eyes shift in the direction of the driver.

“Of course we are.”

I widen my eyes. I’m expecting more.

He holds up his phone. “First, the loose ends. They need tying.”

“Where are we going?”

“I told you. Our honeymoon.”

I lean the back of my head against the cool glass. “Yes, but where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he huffs, his fingers typing furiously.

“Did you grab my passport?”

He smiles when his eyes meet mine. He’s aware I’m digging for information. He couldn’t have packed my passport because in my haste, I left it at mom and dad’s. “Don’t worry,” he assures me. “I have everything covered.”

Eventually, when he doesn’t say anything else, I shrug and stare out the window at the blur of scenery whizzing by. Just once, momentarily, I glance over my shoulder and look over at my husband. He seems harmless enough. But even I know bad things exist to show people where their vulnerabilities are.

We board a private plane. At take-off, I say, “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Touché.”

I look toward the cockpit and lower my voice slightly. “You put me in an institution and had them perform surgery on me without my consent.”

“And yet you’re here.”

He makes a good point.

“Why?” I ask.

“You know,” he says, and he’s staring out the window as the wheels lift. Suddenly, we’re airborne. “I’ve asked myself the same thing. Why would she lie to you, Tom? Why?”

“What? Hold on. We’re talking about me. About the fact that you had my vagina reconstructed.”

“For the record,” he counters, “that was not my doing.”

I close my eyes. I just want him to say something that makes sense. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you want this marriage to work, Melanie?”

“We don’t even know each other.”

“No,” he agrees. “We don’t. The only thing I really know for sure is that you’re a liar.”

“So I know everything there is to know about you then? That’s what you’re saying?”

He juts out his bottom lip while he mulls it over in no time flat. “Pretty much.”

I find myself wishing for a parachute. Jumping without one might be better than this. At least that way, I’d know where I was headed. “That’s interesting because I hardly know anything.”

He swivels in his seat. He looks different. “Have you been working out?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Your arms look bigger.”

“Why would you lie to me about who you were?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You are a stripper.”

I laugh. I can’t help myself. I’ve never met anyone more matter of fact in my life. If I wasn’t so angry, I might find it refreshing.

“What’s funny?”

“I’m not a stripper, Tom. Just a girl who likes to have a little fun.”

“Show me,” he says. And then I do.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. I could see from the moment we met he wanted me to show him what I was made of. And that’s just what I intended when I’d invited him to my hotel room under the guise that I wanted to know more about his church. This and the job he’d hinted at down in the hotel bar. Mostly, it was him I want to know more about.

“Show me.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I could see that he wasn’t completely sure of his next move. I didn’t think this was something he normally did, but then, you can never be certain.

“Yeah, well. About that—you’re married,” I reminded him. Sometimes it’s good to get to the heart of a matter. “And by being here, you’re asking for trouble.” Bait with the promise of reward. It’s an important key to winning.

His brows rose like a challenge. “I’m aware.”

“Why are you here then, Tom?” Using his name was supposed to make it real for him. It was important to know what I was dealing with. Only then could I decide which route to take.

I made a move to remove his suit jacket. He did the work for me.

“To talk about New Hope.”

“Don’t lie, Tom.”

“I’m not. Like I said, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“And your wife?”

“I can assure you she isn’t thinking about you at all.”

“So matter of fact. Such a dry sense of humor. I like that about you.”

He leaned back against the dresser and crossed his arms. “How many men have you been with?”

“Excuse me?” I sat back on the bed and crossed my legs.

“Your sexual history. If we are going to do this, I need to know.”

“Whoa. Wait just a minute.” I held up my hands. “You’re very presumptuous, aren’t you?” It was a rhetorical question, so I didn’t stop there. “I only invited you for a drink. And, to learn more about your religion.”

“I don’t drink,” he said. “I’m sure I mentioned that. In fact, I’m certain I did.”

“So?”

“So— we could have conversed down in the bar. So—unless, I’m mistaken, which this is your chance to clear that up, you invited me here for sex.”

I leaned back, propping myself on my hands. His eyes drifted to my tits. No doubt about it, I told myself. This was happening. “How many women have you been with?” I apprised him carefully

“Two.”

“What? Seriously? No way.” I can see by looking at him that this could be true. Nevertheless, it astounds me.

“Seriously.”

“And men?”

He gave me a look.

“What? I have to ask. One should never make assumptions.”

He offered a look of recognition. “You’re right about that. Now, answer the question.”

“Same.”

“You? Two partners.” He cocked his head like he was waiting for the punch line.

“Yes. Me.” I feigned offense. “My parents are very religious. But my father had a lot of affairs. So I guess you could say I learned early not to throw that part of myself around freely.”

“How early? You’re so young.”

I laughed. “I’m twenty-two. That’s not that young.”

He didn’t say anything. I don’t think he knew what to say.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little young. But I know what I want when I see it.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“A little fun, a little distraction with someone I can trust.”

“So, not much.”

I acted like I was giving it some thought, when really, I had it all figured out. I knew I had to make myself Tom’s ideal. I had to create an illusion for him. I had to find out what was missing in his life and become that. Doing that for a person may not be love, but I wasn’t looking for love.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Love is common. But being someone’s ideal is rare in today’s world. It takes effort, and time, and most of all, patience. It requires attention to detail. Why go through all this when these days all you have to do to find a lover is swipe right?

I’d been there and done that. I’d had my fun. And now, I wanted more.

Tom had the means to be the more I was looking for. He had the means to fulfill those desires. Tom was a safe bet. Smart, boring. Looking to win, as was showcased in the meeting down in the bar. Basically, Tom was easy prey. But don’t get me wrong. The seduction started well before I got him up to my hotel room. In fact, it started down on the street. I looked for subtleties, and I found them. I made a point of reading what was said between the lines. “No,” I told him finally. “Not too much at all.”

“Scottsdale? You thought Arizona was an ideal place for a honeymoon?”

He shifted. “Have you been here before?”

“No.”

“Well then, you wouldn’t know, would you?”

It’s familiar, though, this place. I remember my former sponsor, Josie, posted photos of a trip she took to Scottsdale not long before things went south for her. “What are we going to do here?”

“Whatever you want?”

He doesn’t actually mean whatever I want. But I intend to make him mean it.

When we arrive at the hotel, the man unloading our bags makes a comment to our driver. “Could be his daughter…could be his whore,” he laughs. “Who’s to say?”

Before I realize what’s happening, Tom has the guy pinned to the ground by his throat. “She’s my wife,” he says.

“Tom,” I say. “Let go. His face is turning blue.”

He isn’t looking at me and he doesn’t let go. “Apologize.”

I’m afraid he is going to kill the guy. His lips are purple. “Tom,” I say. “You’re choking him.”

My husband shakes his head slightly. “This is grappling. It’s a simple submission hold.”

“Oh my God.” The dude’s eyes are bulging. “Tom, you have to let go.” I reach for his arm.

“Right now, I have control,” he says. “But if he doesn’t apologize soon, he has approx— ”

I remove my hand from my husband’s forearm. This is all very sexy.

I hear the guy mutter something that sounds like an apology. Tom lets go.

“Say it again,” he tells the guy. “Clearly, please.”

“I’m sorry,” he stutters. I watch as he backs away, holding his neck and looking at Tom like he has lost his mind. “It was just a joke.”

“Jokes can get a person killed,” Tom warns. It isn’t a threat exactly. But now I can see my husband is smart that way.

As we stand in line to check in, Tom’s breathing finally returns to normal. “You know karate?”

“Jujitsu.”

My eyes widen. “Anything else I should know?”

He doesn’t have to think about his answer. He leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I hope we can make this marriage work.” Afterward, he pulls away and meets my eye. “I really hate liars.”