Mrs. Matched | Complete

Chapter Seven

I stared at the notification on my phone, sure that it must have been some kind of error. We'd already received our matches, so what reason did Match Made have to be sending us more notifications?

I turned around and showed Christopher my phone. "Did you get this, too?"

He looked up from his phone to check my screen before nodding. "I did. Odd. I thought we'd be done with them now that we are here."

I could feel the worry balling up in the pit of my stomach. All the usual signs were there: increased heart rate, sweaty palms, dizziness, and the inability to get a full breath of air into my lungs.

"Don't worry." He gently guided my head back to rest on the chair and then sat down himself. "I'm sure it isn't anything too strenuous. Would it help if I look for you?"

I nodded and then stared at the sky while he opened the notification and read it. As he silently read the message, I became more and more jittery, allowing my leg to bounce along with my nerves. I was torn between wanting him to read it out loud so I wouldn't have to wait any longer to know and wanting him to stop reading all together and never tell me what it said. I managed to wait the length of five deep breaths before he finally spoke.

"It's some kind of reminder of our contract terms. Our parents will still have some kind of say, as will the company, until we carry out certain activities. Once the tasks are complete, we will be left alone to decide things for ourselves like everyone else."

I swear if they say we have to consummate this marriage, I'm running into the mountains and living off of raw animals until I perish from hypothermia.

"The first one isn't too bad, though," he continued without looking at me. "We just have to do some silly 'get to know you' game."

My sigh of relief was probably audible, but Christopher didn't say anything about it. Instead, he just got up and said, "I'm going to make some tea and get the game thing set up. When you're ready, I'll be in the front room."

And then he handed my phone back to me and left. He didn't ask if I was okay or offer to stay with me. I guess that's pretty normal for someone I just met an hour ago. Did I even want him to stay?

A large part of me just wanted to stay up on that balcony forever. Or crawl into bed and bawl until I had cried myself to sleep. But that wouldn't get the Match Made people off my back. From what little I could make of the message without having read the whole contract, it seemed like getting these people (and our parents) out of the marriage agreement would definitely increase my chances of getting out. I mean, if I'm going to find a way out, it has to be a lot harder with a group of professionals tailing me the whole time, right? The only problem left is figuring out exactly how I'll get out of it.

A gentle breeze swept up some of my hair and flung it into my face, breaking me from my thoughts. I gathered up all of my courage and left the balcony behind. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I did know it would involve getting Match Made and my parents off of my case.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash my face and comb my hair into a ponytail, I wandered into the spare room to find the boxes that had my clothes in them. If I'm going to do this, I thought, might as well not be a greasy mess. Gotta make it believable.

Three outfit changes and a little too much believability later, I headed down the stairs to find Christopher.

"I'm just going to find some food or something before we start," I called out as I was halfway down the stairs. "I didn't really eat much today."

But it turned out I wouldn't have to get anything to eat. As soon as I turned the corner of the stairs and got a view of the front room, it became clear that Christopher's opinion of getting tea was very different from mine. Where I would think of a mug of hot liquid, he clearly conceived of it more as an entire meal.

"Oh." I slowed to a stop when I saw what he had laid out. "I guess I'll just join you, then."

He gestured to the couch, indicating that I should sit down. "I thought you might be as hungry as I am after today so I made enough for both of us."

I sat down on the other corner of the couch from where he was sitting, silently thanking him for leaving the center cushion unoccupied. "Thanks," I said as he handed me a plate. The words sounded hollow and insufficient coming out of my mouth, but I had no idea how to make it better.

"We'll have to thank the Match Made people for stocking our fridge with such delicious food, too," I offered, hoping to keep the conversation going.

He handed me a note and answered my unasked question. "It's our parents, actually. Apparently they want us to feel at home here."

"Because this isn't awkward at all." The words escaped my mouth before I could catch myself. I wanted to say sorry, because I didn't mean to hurt him. But honestly, the whole situation was so weird that I just needed to say it out loud. So I didn't apologize. He deserves to know how I'm feeling. How else can I expect us to live in the same space?

"I know." Christopher chuckled as he loaded his plate up with food. "This is definitely the most awkward first date I've ever been on."

I hadn't thought of this as a first date. I looked at Christopher sitting in the corner of the couch eating food with one hand and looking at the 'get to know you' questions with the other and decided to load up my plate with food, too. He might as well see the kind of girl I am right off the bat. No sense giving first date treatment to a guy I don't intend to stay with. Or one who is stuck with me already.

I sat back in the corner of the couch and pretended not to see Christopher's amused smirk from the other side of his questionnaire. I ate two whole sandwiches before I was ready to start the activity. "Okay," I finally said, putting my still full plate down in the middle of the couch. "Let's get this game out of the way."

"I may have misspoke earlier," he said, handing me another copy of the questionnaire. "It's more of a requirement to sit and talk about a specific set of questions. But I thought we could turn it into a sort of game if you wanted."

I gave the list a quick glance. "This doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually. Married people should get to know each other. But I think we need to allow a refusal so it doesn't get weird. I've only known you less than a day and you've known me just as long. We can say no to any question that is too uncomfortable."

He looks at me and then down at the paper and then back to me, clearly thinking.

"We don't have to skip it forever," I offer, hoping he will agree. "Just maybe put it off for another time."

"I don't think we're breaking the rules with that adjustment. As long as we are both acting in good faith and trying to answer the questions as well as we can."

Is he implying I'm not going to act in good faith? Okay. Maybe he knows me better than I thought.

"Okay," I agreed. "Now how are we turning this into a game?"

He smiled and reached around behind the couch pulling out a bowl I didn't recognize, but it must have come from our kitchen. "We are pulling the questions at random. You can pick first." He handed me the bowl of tiny folded papers. How had he prepared all of this? Was my meltdown upstairs really that long?

I took the bowl and shook up the paper for effect. "Okay. I'll go first. I'm picking a question to ask you, okay?"

"Or we could both answer them," he suggested. "That way we get more out of the way quicker."

"Okay." I shuffled the paper around with my hand and reached in to pull out the first question of the night. "Oh this one is too easy! Where is your favourite restaurant?"

"That is not an easy one!" he protested. "I have at least three favourite restaurants. But I guess Giulliani's is probably my favourite."

"I've never been," I admitted, laughing at the exaggerated shocked look he had pulled his face into. "What? It's far away from where I used to live!"

"Where did you live before?" he asked me. And then we were off getting to know each other, the bowl of questions mostly lying on the floor forgotten except for a few times when we got stuck for conversation. He was actually pretty nice to talk to. In another life we could have been great friends.