Page 81 of The Marriage Game

Her subsequent sigh is heavy with the weight of her disappointment.

Meanwhile I’m fighting a smile. She thinks she didn’t help us. Which means we won’t be in her book.

“Well?” Dorothy parts her hands expectantly. “What do you two have to say for yourselves?”

Hannah’s earnest face suddenly swims into my mind.We were at a loss for how to help you.

She so badly wanted to help our marriage by giving us Dorothy’s free counseling services. By robbing Dorothy of her role in helping us, we’ve also robbed Hannah of hers.

I don’t want to be in Dorothy's book. Max doesn’t either. Being in it would be a devastating hit to our pride. But sitting here I realize that I love my sister more than I love my pride. Whichmeans I need to die to myself and tell the truth.The truth will set you free, the red-lettered words of Jesus call to me.

Time to be set free.

Although I should make sure Max is on the same page–we are supposed to be working on communicating better, after all.

“Max,” I whisper to him, “I think I want to tell her–for Hannah’s sake.”

A soft smile plays across his lips. “I was just reaching the same conclusion,” he whispers back. His hand squeezes mine, then he adds in an even softer voice. “And hey, maybe she’ll at least agree to change our names in the book.”

I grin. “When I was little I used to want to be called Topanga.”

“Topanga?” Max raises an eyebrow

I shrug. “I lovedBoy Meets World.”

Max chuckles. “In that case, I guess I’ll ask to be called Corey.”

Dorothy clears her throat, breaking the moment. “What are you two whispering about?”

I hold Max’s gaze for a beat, then he jerks his head in the direction of Dorothy. “The floor is yours if you want it.”

I nod. I do want to be the one to talk. Obviously.

“Dorothy,” I begin, “you’re right, okay? We did fake our fight last night, but not for any of the reasons you said. The truth is: your plan worked. Putting the two of us in a sort of isolated state, essentially forced us to talk through our problems. We learned a lot about each other, and had some amazing conversations that provided us with some breakthroughs in our weak areas. In fact, yesterday when we missed your afternoon session it wasn’t because we were fighting it was because we…” I choose my words carefully, because maybe we can still leave Max’s and my sex life out of the book chapter, “made up.” Dorothy’s knowing smile at this indicates that my word choice didn’t fool her. She knows exactly what I meant by ‘made up’.

My goodness. I don’t know why she’s so obsessed with people having sex. Married people, but still. We get it, Dorothy, you think sex is important in a marriage. No need to go on and on about it.

“Anyway,” I say pointedly, “then you showed up all upset about us missing the session, and well…we’d already been talking about pretending your actions had only made our marriage worse, so then we just went with it.”

Dorothy blinks at us. “But I still don’t understand why you would pretend such a thing? My help offended you that much?”

“No, it wasn’t that,” I tell her. “Not entirely, anyway.” I suck in a breath. “To be honest, Dorothy, the reason we pretended you’d made things worse between us was because we didn’t want you to put us in your next book. We’re not just some story you can use to increase your sales. We’re two people with feelings and emotions and a right to privacy.” I set my shoulders. “And frankly, if you can’t respect that then we may have to take legal action.”

Dorothy stares at us, unblinking. The seconds tick by, and I start to wonder if she even heard what I said. She’s so still, so expressionless. I’m about to say her name when quite suddenly she throws her head back and laughs long and loud.

“What’s happening?” I hiss to Max.

“I’m not sure,” he whispers back. “Is she having some sort of episode?”

Dorothy slaps the table as her laughter fizzles out. There are tears of mirth streaming down her cheeks. “Oh my, my! Of all the things! You two thought I was going to use you in my next book? That’s why you pretended to be fighting? Oh that is too funny! The shenanigans! Your escapades! Now I wish youdidwant me to use you in my next book, but sadly I do have some scruples. I only use couples who agree to let me use their stories. I never use people’s stories without their permission.” Dorothychuckles again. “Can you imagine that Walter story in print, though? The laughs it would get.” She shakes her head. “Ah, well, it’s not the important thing. Your marriage is the important thing, and I never want any couple that I help to worry about ending up in a book without them having given me their express permission.” She shakes her head. “It all makes sense now.”

To her maybe. I’m even more confused.

“You mean to tell me that all of those people in your bookswillinglylet you use their stories?Willingly?” I repeat the word because that’s how far-fetched the whole thing seems.

“Yes, of course.” She frowns. “Why is that so surprising to you?”

“I just can’t imagine a couple being okay with having all of their problems shared with the world. It would be so humiliating.”

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