My plan was flawed from the start. We’d only been to one bar in town since we’d arrived, so I didn’t know where the good places to go even were. I didn’t want to ask anyone familiar with the area for suggestions, because I couldn’t take the risk that they’d offer to show us around. There was no way I could get Beckett to meet someone if anyone who knew us as a married couple was with us.

I knew I was going to have to wing it. We wanted to be someplace within walking distance of the apartment so no one had to drive, and I knew where most of the stores, restaurants and bars were. We’d just head that direction and look for someplace with a crowd.

That evening, after a dinner of leftover pizza, I told Beckett to get dressed.

“You were serious about that?”

“One-hundred percent.”

He made a face. “But I’m in my studying clothes.” He was wearing a pair of navy blue UC-Irvine sweatpants and a cranberry-colored Middlesex hoodie.

“That’s why you have to change.” I was already dressed to go out in my favorite distressed jeans and a sweater. It wasn’t exactly the kind of sexy I was used to, but it was Iowa and it was cold. I figured a covered up body was sexier than a frostbitten one.

After a bit more complaining, Beckett gave up and went into the bedroom to change. It only took him three minutes to come back out in jeans and a button-down shirt I hadn’t seen since California. It must be so easy to be a guy. Not that he had a lot to choose from that was appropriate for cold weather. Neither of us did.

I have to confess that my eyes widened a bit at the new snug fit of the shirt across his expanded chest. Ashley hadn’t been entirely off base with her whistling and catcalling. The gym agreed with Beckett. It agreed hard.

He held out his hands. “Satisfied?”

I blinked myself back into the here and now and nodded. “You’ll do. Come on, let’s go.”

We put on our recently acquired heavy coats and went out into the dark evening. I still wasn’t used to how much darker it was here at night. So much less light pollution. The stars looked crowded.

“All right, fearless leader, where are we going?” Beckett asked.

“This way,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. He couldn’t know that I was bullshitting my way through this evening. I set off in the direction of downtown—such as it was. As we got closer, I realized I was getting excited. It really had been too long since I’d done anything fun. Anything irresponsible.

I smiled at Beckett. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

He shook his head, but he was smiling. “That remains to be seen.”

It wasn’t long before we hit River Street and the glow of bars open for business. There wasn’t much action on the street, but it was a Sunday night, after all. We passed a couple of small bars that didn’t appear to have more than a few diehard locals inside, and I acted like they weren’t even there. Had to maintain the illusion that I had an actual plan. Then, though the plate glass and closed door of a larger outfit called Hawk’s Sports Bar and Grille, we heard the sudden, loud, communal cheer that only comes from a group of people watching sports.

“Here we are,” I announced, stopping in front of the door, and pointing through the glass. “Look, real live people.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

We went inside just as the assembled people let out a collective groan.

“Bullshit!” someone shouted.

I looked at the TV and saw a crew of black-and-white-shirted officials conferring on a football field. Sunday Night Football. Green Bay Packers vs. Chicago Bears, and a quick glance around told me that this was a bar divided. So maybe this wasn’t the best environment for finding Beckett a rebound girl, but I’d already acted like I meant to do this, so I had to fake it for a little while. I led him to the bar and found a place to squeeze in and order a couple of beers.

The bartender delivered and I turned my attention to surveying the place for prospects. That was when my second mistake hit home. Because I immediately saw a girl checking Beckett out. But as he raised his beer to take a drink, she saw the ring on his finger and looked away.

“Take your ring off,” I whispered to him, already working off the one on my finger. How could I have been so stupid? Had I actually gotten used to the thing?

“Huh?” He wasn’t listening. He was watching the action on the TVs.

Oh brother. We weren’t going to get anywhere with him in a sports bar. He wasn’t one of those nut-job sports fans, but he’d happily watch almost anything involving large men in uniform and a ball of any shape.

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Your ring. Take it off.”

“Oh. Sure. Hold this.” He handed me his beer and tried to get the ring off. Tried being the operative word, because after a minute of fussing, it was clear the silver band wasn’t going anywhere. “Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his hand. “It’s really on there.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know.” His jaw clenched as he tried again. His ring finger was turning an angry red color. “Ow. Fuck it. It’s not coming off.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” I tried the ring myself, wiggling it back and forth until he pulled his hand away with a grunt.

“I’m not going to break my damn finger over this, Emmy.”

I huffed in frustration. “Well this is going to make my job a lot fucking harder.”

Beckett looked irritated for a second, but then he laughed. “You realize this is crazy, right? My wife is pissed off at me that I can’t get my wedding ring off so she can hook me up with another girl.”

I tried not to laugh, but he was right. It was completely absurd. I let out a snort, then fell into helpless laughter. “I guess we’ll just have to find some girl who’s into married guys.”

He leaned in, his voice low in my ear. “They’re going to think you’re trying to get them into a threesome, you realize that, right?”

I had not realized that. I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back so I could see his eyes. “There are a lot of things I will do for you, Beck. But that is not one of them.”

He grinned.

And that’s when mistake number three became apparent.

“Beckett! Emmy!” a voice called from nearby.

I turned to find our classmate Reina beckoning us from a few feet away.

“Hey guys!” she called. “Come sit with us!”

What on earth had made me think we could go out in a town as small as River Glen and not run into a single person we knew? Although even if I’d thought of it, I wouldn’t have expected to run into three of our fellow PA grad students hanging out in the exact bar we’d come to.

“We thought you were studying!” Reina said as she led us back to the table she was sharing with two other grad students, Travis and Keith, as well as two other people I didn’t know.

“Hey guys!” Travis said.

Keith was transfixed by the TV, but he shot a glance and a wave at us. “Packers or Bears?” he asked.

“Uh…” I stammered. “Neither?”

“Cards,” Beckett said, his tone indignant.

“Cardinals?” Travis said. “Please.”

That was all it took to start a full-on football debate. A subject I couldn’t care less about. I looked at Reina hopefully, but she was just as into it as the others. Turns out that Reina and Travis were both from the Chicago area and Keith was from Wisconsin. The other two with them—a woman named Jenny, and a man named Ron—were also originally from Wisconsin and Illinois, respectively. The five of them had decided to watch the game between the rival teams. It was pure coincidence that this was the night I’d declared to be our night on the town.

It was obvious in the first five minutes that we ran into them that there would be no wing-manning for me that night. The others weren’t going to let us slip off now that they had found us. Plus the pitchers of beer kept reappearing, as well as baskets of freshly popped popcorn.

I had to admit, it wasn’t the night I’d planned on, but it was still awfully nice to be out and doing something purely social. With the distraction of the game, none of the pathology students even talked about school. Which I’m sure Jenny and Ron appreciated, even if they didn’t know it.

“So how’d you two meet?” Jenny asked me at a commercial break.

“We met in our first biology class in undergrad.”

“College sweethearts,” she said in a singsong voice, smiling.

I just laughed.

“Don’t worry, they’re not one of those couples,” Reina said. I must have looked confused, because she explained. “You guys are very chill. You’re not all over each other, and ‘I love you, honey bunny!’ all the time.”

Imagine that, I thought, giving Beckett a look from the corner of my eyes. He’d overheard the comment and slung his arm around my shoulders. “How did you guess my little nickname for Emmy?” He looked at me, grinning, “Did you tell them, honey bunny?”

“Aww, I’m sorry, schmoopy, was that supposed to be a secret?” I teased.

Reina laughed. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. You remind me of my brother and his wife. They’ve been together forever, so they’re not in the obnoxious horny stage anymore.”

“Easy not to be obnoxious when you know you can get some whenever you want,” Ron said. Then he seemed to realize what he’d said and gave me a sheepish smile. “I mean, if you’re both into it.”

Jenny laughed. “Ooh, I dig that sexy mutual consent talk.”

“You know me. Enlightened, twenty-first century man.”

The game came back on, and with only two minutes left in the fourth quarter, everyone’s attention was glued to the screens. The Packers won, with mixed reactions from the bar’s patrons, and our table. It was easy for me, since I could traitorously cheer for both sides. There was a bit of sulking from the Chicago fans, but then the TVs turned back to a variety of other sports and analysis of the game under closed captioning, and the bartender turned up the music instead.

We spent the rest of the night working our way through a few more pitchers and having normal, non-pathology related conversations. It was a nice change. Beckett and I ended up telling a few stories of our time in undergrad. I was amazed by how easy it was to pretend we’d been a couple all those years. There wasn’t much difference between dating someone and living with them, except of course for the sex, but it wasn’t like we’d be telling those stories anyway.

At midnight, Reina declared that we should all get to bed if we were going to survive a full day of classes on Monday, and everyone agreed to pack it in. Ron offered to give us a ride home, but I didn’t think he had any business behind the wheel, much less with me in the car. Jenny convinced him to Uber it home, while Beckett and I walked.

Somehow it had gotten even colder and I slid my arm through Beckett's, clinging to him for warmth as we walked. Half a dozen beers had my brain on spin cycle and my feet clumsy.

“So, I completely failed you,” I said.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I actually had fun. Ashley was right, I needed to get out.” His voice had a familiar, thick sound that I recognized from nights out at the bars in Irvine.

“She didn’t say get out, she said get some.”

“Eh.” He shrugged.

I shivered and snuggled closer to him. God, it was cold. “Aren’t you…lonely? You were with Emily for so long.”

“We didn’t live in the same state. I’m used to long dry spells.” He sighed. “Really. Long. Dry spells.”

“I don’t just mean that. You talked to her on the phone all the time. Do you miss that? The relationship part?”

“Sometimes. Things weren’t exactly great over the summer.”

“Oh. I didn’t…”

“I just figured it would be better after we were together.”

“That’s a big gamble, Beck.”

“Yeah. I see that. Now.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you.”

We turned the final corner to our block, and the sight of our building made me happy. It was starting to feel something like home.

He let out a soft, sad laugh. “To be honest, you’re a better girlfriend than she was at the end.”

“I’m not your girrfriend. Girlfriend,” I corrected automatically, my slurred word blunting my indignation.

“That’s my point.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

We walked in silence until we got to the outside door of Overlook, and I stood shivering while Beckett let us in with his key. I scrambled in behind him and gave a full body shake.

“I’m f-f-f-f-reezing!”

He laughed, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “I hate to tell you, but I’m pretty sure it gets colder than this.”

I shook my head. “No. I reject that.”

He laughed again, and took one of my hands between his, rubbing life into my numb fingers.

“Uhhh,” I moaned happily, giving him my other hand. “See? You’re a good husband. You deserve a wife who can get you laid.”

“Stop,” he said. “I’m fine. You’re obsessing. Come on.” He tugged my elbow until I followed him to the second floor, where I slumped against the wall beside the door while Beckett fumbled with the key.

“Don’t you miss sex?” I confessed, “I miss sex.”

Beckett dropped his keys.

I giggled, and put my foot over them when he bent to pick them up.

“Move.” He smacked my ankle, laughing, but I didn’t move. He snagged the edge of one of the jump rings and yanked the keys free, making me lose my balance. I caught myself on the door frame as Beckett got to his feet. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” he said.

“Answer the question.”

Beckett ignored me, looking around me to fit his key in the lock. It clicked softly as he unlocked it, but I put my hand on his wrist. “You okay?” I asked.

He stopped trying to open the door and looked in my eyes for a long moment. “Can I tell you something?”

My breath caught. “Yes.”

“I…I don’t actually miss it that much.”

“Really?”

“It’s not that much different than what I can do…alone, you know?”

It was perhaps the saddest thing I’d ever heard. Still, I tried to meet him halfway. “I mean, sure, the end result is basically the same, but what about all the other stuff?”

He nodded, like I should continue.

“The kissing, and the naked bodies, and the touching, and just that…you know, that thing.”

“I guess…”

“Do you know what I mean?”

“Um…”

I couldn’t think how to explain, so I slid my hands around his hips, pulling him to me. Our bodies were lined up from knees to chest, and even with our heavy coats on I could feel the weight and heat of him. I closed my eyes, and tilted my face up to his, not kissing him, not wanting him to kiss me. Just grazing my cheek against his, and breathing the same air for a moment. This was the intangible thing I meant. The closeness, the electricity between two people.

“This,” I whispered. “Don’t you miss the spark?”

His fingertips grazed my jaw and my throat, and his nose nuzzled mine.

“Emmy,” he breathed.

I closed my eyes again, this time wanting to be kissed. Wanting to see if this spark could build a fire.

But a door clicked open down the hall, and we jumped.

My pulse rushed in my ears as Beckett straightened up, away from me.

“We should go inside,” he said.

“Right.”

He stood back while I opened the door, and said, “You can use the bathroom first,” as soon as we were inside.

I guessed that meant the conversation was over. And maybe I’d been the only one feeling electricity after all. Electricity I had no right to feel.

Go to bed, Emmy, I thought. Before you do something stupid.