Elise noticed the box before Mara had taken off her coat.
It sat in the centre of the hotel bed, too deliberate to be forgotten luggage and too small to be the room-service dessert Mara had promised not to order. Black paper. Silver ribbon. A card tucked beneath the bow with two words in Mara’s handwriting: Your choice.
“You said dinner first,” Elise said.
“I said we had a reservation.” Mara closed the door, tested the lock and placed the key card on the dresser. “I never said you had to be patient.”
Eleven years of marriage had not made Mara easier to read. It had only taught Elise how much she enjoyed trying.
Outside, rain pressed fine silver lines against the windows. The city below was all reflected signs and moving headlights. Inside, a single lamp warmed the room, catching the edge of Mara’s smile while leaving the rest for Elise to imagine.
Elise touched the ribbon but did not pull it. “What am I choosing?”
“Open it.”
“Bossy,” Elise said, though her smile betrayed her.
“Hopeful.” Mara stepped close enough for Elise to catch her perfume, then stopped. “Open it, and keep me waiting if you like.”
Elise let the silence stretch. It was an old game between them. Mara could turn waiting into a kind of touch. Elise could make anticipation last an entire evening.
“You know I do,” she said at last.
The ribbon came loose with one slow pull. Inside the box lay two smaller packages, identical except for the labels Mara had written herself.
Close.
Closer.
Elise laughed softly. “That is not useful information.”
“It isn’t meant to be useful.”
She opened the first package. The object inside was smooth and curved, shaped to rest broadly in a hand. The second was narrower and more precise, almost severe in its simplicity. Elise lifted one, then the other, feeling their different weights without pretending she knew anything more than what she could see.
Mara leaned against the dresser. Waiting again.
“Which one did you expect me to choose?” Elise asked.
“That would ruin the question.”
“You always have a theory.”
“I have several.”
Elise returned both objects to the box and crossed the room. She stopped within the small distance Mara had left between them.
“Tell me one.”
Mara’s eyes dropped briefly to Elise’s mouth, then lifted. “I thought you might choose the one that lets you take your time.”
“And which is that?”
“Whichever one keeps me guessing.”
There it was: the answer Elise had been waiting for. Mara had not brought a script. She had brought possibilities, which was considerably more tempting.
She reached past Mara and dimmed the lamp. The rain seemed louder in the near-dark.
“Still curious?” Mara asked.
“Very.” Elise let one fingertip trace the silver ribbon still looped around her wrist.
“Choosing now?”
“What would be the fun in that?”
Mara smiled. “Dinner first?”
Elise picked up the box and placed it inside the bedside drawer. She closed it, slowly enough that the click sounded louder than it should have.
“Dinner,” she agreed. Then she kissed Mara once, slowly enough to make their reservation feel like a very poor plan.
“And the late checkout?” Mara asked.
Elise opened the door and looked back over her shoulder.
“Make it later.”