Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
SCOTTIE
“Good morning,” I say to Ellison and Sanders, who are holding hands and standing by the dock.
The sun is barely peeking over the trees, and a mist is lifting off the lake, where blow-up obstacle courses are stationed. Brad and his wife, Jenna, are off to the right, having an intimate conversation. Chad and his wife, Danielle, are quietly arguing about some fantasy league he is in. Finky and Lindsey are passing a cup of coffee back and forth. And Duncan and his husband are doing jumping jacks off to the side, looking like they’re gearing up for a takedown.
There are a few other couples who I haven’t met yet, but maybe in time, we will.
Sanders offers me a nod. He lifts a megaphone to his mouth and says, “Are we ready to test your agility? Your comfort level with each other? Your athletic prowess?”
The Chads and Brads all lift their fists in the air while Wilder leans in and whispers, “Douche canoes.”
I chuckle but then remind myself that we’re still supposed to be angry with each other.
Over dinner last night, we laid out a game plan. Wilder took the lead and wrote in his journal how we’re going to become the best couple to have ever walked the grounds of this camp. His evil cackle had me laughing, and he had me smiling while he pointed out ways for us to start slowly, showing Sanders how his tactics are working. And when he made a game day plan with X ’s and O ’s like Sanders did, showing our way to the end zone of best couple of the year, he had me doubled over in a fit of giggles.
And when I went to sleep last night, feeling lighter, like a weight had been lifted, I realized that this was exactly what I needed. Maybe Wilder was right; in order to break away from the dark cloud hanging over my head, I needed to break the routine.
Funny thing is, I didn’t know that dark cloud was there until yesterday. It appeared out of nowhere, shocking me to my very core. I went into yesterday’s session with the idea that we’d simply battle it out and then leave, but bringing up past grievances I had with my husband shook me.
I had no idea I would be airing out my frustrations, the hurt I felt from his indifference. From his lack of love. And after realizing that, crying through the grief, mourning those thoughts and feelings, it was cathartic to release the pain.
More than I expected.
I’ve been sitting on those feelings, repressing them out of fear of having to relive it all, and sure, in the moment, it didn’t feel great, but God, today, I feel lighter. I feel better. I feel like a new me is starting to blossom, and I’m ready to have fun.
I’m ready to experience life, as Wilder says. And if I’m honest, I can attribute a lot of that transformation to Wilder. He’s pushed me— even if unintentionally —and I’m a stronger person for it.
“As you can see, we have wet suits lined up along the shore,” Sanders says into the megaphone. “It is up to you whether you want to put them on or not. Wearing your bathing suit is just fine, but the lake is cold in the morning. So you make the choice. Once everyone’s ready, we’ll line up. First couple to complete the obstacle course wins. Time will be added to your overall score if you fall into the water, so try to avoid that as much as possible. There are questions at every station. Those questions will be answered carefully with a staff member, and you will only be allowed to proceed if you answer correctly. Time is of the essence, so be truthful with each other.”
I’m unsure what these questions might entail, but by the looks of the way the other couples are huddled up, I can only imagine what the prize is going to be. This is going to be a bloodbath.
Wilder turns to me, places his hands on my shoulders, and says, “We need to win this.”
“I’m sensing that.”
“Do you see everyone around us? They have their game faces on.”
“They do.”
“We need to have our game faces on.”
“I don’t know what a game face is. Tell me how to morph myself, and I will.”
He holds back a smile and says, “Are you finally ready to enjoy some improv with me?”
God, he must have been waiting for this moment. It’s all he’s been wanting to do, engage in his silly improv and loop me into it. Well, after the convo last night and my newfound goal of trying to let go, the time has come.
I wet my lips and nod. “I think I am.”
The smile he was holding back turns into a full-fledged smirk. He tugs on his lip ring and moves even closer, our foreheads nearly touching. “Good. Let me set the scene.” He nods behind him. “See those fucks over there?”
I glance over his shoulder at my coworkers and their significant others and then back at him. “I see them.”
“They’re enemy number two.”
“Who is enemy number one?” I ask.
“Us,” he says. “I am enemy number one, and to me, you are enemy number one.”
“Right, because we’re mad at each other.”
“Precisely. We need to seem chaotic but still work well together. We need to surprise everyone. They need to think we’re without a doubt going to lose, only to pull out the win and take home the condom basket.”
“Do you think it’s going to be another condom basket?”
“No idea,” he says. “But whatever it is, we need it. We can’t let these douche canoes have access to lube and cock rings or, better yet, Nerds Clusters.”
I gasp and clutch his shirt. “Do you think they’d do that?”
In a low, menacing tone, he says, “I have no fucking idea, but I’ll be damned if they gain access to them. So are you ready to annihilate?”
“Ready,” I say, grateful that I have Wilder at my side for this.
“Then let’s get suited up.”
Once we’re given our wet suits, we kick off our sandals. I’m wearing a one-piece bathing suit because I had no intention of wearing a two-piece in front of my coworkers. Wilder’s dressed in a pair of black swim trunks—not surprised by the color choice—and a black T-shirt.
And today is the first time I’m seeing him with his hair somewhat styled, which I think is funny, since we’re going to get it wet anyway. But he put some pomade in it, making the longer strands go in all different kinds of directions. Very messy, very, dare I say, hot?
Let’s not go there; that’s only asking for trouble.
“Are you going to need help with your wet suit?” he asks as he pulls his shirt up and over his head, revealing his carved upper torso.
Um…excuse me?
No, this can’t be right.
I ordered a fake husband who was into improv, not the moody GQ model with the ripped chest and stacked abs.
Forgive my wandering eyes, but does this man live in the gym?
I guess he really does have time to do whatever he wants, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this fit in person. Broad chest with rounded shoulders that meet well-toned arms. His pecs are flat but still pop off his chest like a swimmer’s. The muscles along his rib cage ripple under the early morning light, and his stomach is stacked with individually carved abs, one right on top of the other. There’s a small patch of hair that’s under his belly button, leading down to his waistline, and the tattooed rings on his arms are the only ink—from what I can tell—on his body.
“Scottie?”
“Huh? What?” I ask, snapping my eyes up to his, where I find him smiling at me.
“You’re staring.”
My cheeks flush, and I look away. “Was I? Uh, sorry. I’ve just, um, I haven’t noticed, I mean, I’ve never seen…” I let out a breath and then look up at him, feeling defeated. “You have nice muscles.”
His lips quiver, his eyes sparkle, and I can see him wanting to laugh, but he holds back, staying in character as much as he can. “Thanks, Pips. You have great legs.”
I look down at my legs and then back up at him. “They’re short and my knees are weird.”
“Are you really going to insult yourself in front of me?”
“That’s what Matt used to say about them.” The moment the words leave my lips, I know it’s a mistake, because Wilder’s semijovial expression morphs into pure anger.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“You know, I don’t know why I brought that up. Just forget I said it.”
“No,” he says, taking a step forward. “Did he really say that to you?”
“Sometimes,” I answer reluctantly. “But it was in a joking way.”
“Yeah, well, that ‘joke’ seems to have tarnished your opinion about yourself, and that’s unacceptable.” He tips my chin up with his thumb. “You hear me? Unacceptable. Do not take other people’s flawed opinions about you and turn them into your own. There is nothing wrong with your legs. Personally, I think they’re hot. The moment I saw you in that skirt standing outside Anthropologie, I thought to myself, she has hot legs. Nothing weird about them.”
Once again, I can feel my cheeks heat up as I quietly say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, take off that cover-up so I can assess the rest of your body.”
“What?” I ask, snapping my attention to him, causing him to smirk.
“Just kidding, Pips. But seriously, suit up. We have a challenge to win.”
Wilder has his hand on my hip, his chest pressed against my back, as he leans over and points to a square-shaped blow-up obstacle in the middle of the lake. We’re both suited up, but instead of him all the way in his wet suit, he has the top half hanging at his hips, keeping his chest and arms exposed. He claims the sun is starting to make him hot, so he doesn’t want to burn up and overheat before it’s our turn, but a part of me wonders if he’s doing it to show off to the other guys. There’s no doubt Wilder has the best body out of all the husbands.
Not that it’s a competition, but I did see Chad and Duncan pointing at Wilder before they took on the challenge. Luckily, we didn’t have to go first, so we can watch where people are messing up and readjust our method.
“Right there, that’s where everyone falls in, and it’s because the woman is jumping first, and when the guy jumps on, he sends the woman into the water. We need to switch up there.”
“Yeah, I see. But should we argue about it when we get to that point?”
He squeezes my hip. “That’s my girl. Take all that built-up anger you have, and let me have it.”
“I think I can do that.”
“Prices,” Sanders calls out. “You’re up.”
Getting into character, I push Wilder to the side and say, “For the love of God, stop showing everyone your body and zip yourself up.”
The smallest of smiles pulls at his lips before Wilder says, “Well, at least someone was looking at my body.”
I roll my eyes and walk up to Sanders, arms crossed, looking none too pleased to be here.
“You guys ready?” Sanders asks.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I say.
“Odd, I think I said that to you last night when you got in bed,” Wilder says, causing me to gasp.
“Says the guy who took forever to?—”
“Okay,” Sanders cuts in. “Let’s leave the arguing to a minimum. Remember, this is a team event, so you must work together as a team.”
“We know,” Wilder says as he finishes zipping up.
Sanders steps aside and says, “On your marks, get set, go!”
Wilder pushes me to the side and takes off like a bat out of hell, making me chuckle as I follow behind him.
“Hurry up, wench.”
“Don’t call me that!” I yell.
“Put those short legs to good use.”
I chuckle again and hate him for it, because he’s not supposed to be getting me out of character.
When we reach the first obstacle, Wilder waits for me. It’s a small zigzag with palm trees at every turn. The inflatables are incredibly unsteady as they float on the water, and there’s a solid chance we’ll fall into the water just like every other couple that has started this race.
Pulling me in close, Wilder whispers, “You go first. I’ll rock it too much with my weight, causing you to be off-balance. Remember, the palm trees are just air. You can’t hang on them.”
“Got it,” I say and then shout, “Stop freaking mansplaining everything,” and pretend to whack his hand away.
The first two zigs are easy, but then the float starts to become pretty rocky, so I stay light on my feet and tackle the next two. When I feel myself start to go off-balance, I leap to the end of the zigzags and land on all fours on the inflatable, causing it to rock. I look over my shoulder just in time to see Wilder tiptoe his way across with ease, the rockiness of it not bothering him once.
“What are you doing? Get up,” he yells.
When I make it up, we go to our first staff member who’s holding a card.
Looking between us, they ask, “Do you feel you two spend enough quality time together?”
Without blinking an eye, Wilder says, “No. I’m too absorbed in my phone, and I miss a lot of things she says to me.”
Wow, okay, that feels all too real.
I answer, “No. I stopped planning fun activities because he always ruined them when something didn’t go his way.”
The staff member steps aside and says, “You may proceed.”
Next is an archway of swinging balls.
“You have to run fast. If you see one headed for you, dive and stick yourself to the floor. They will knock you off. We saw that with Duncan.”
“Got it,” I say.
I wait for the first one to move by, and then with all the speed I can muster, I fly down the center of the archway, missing all the balls but one. The last one hits me and throws me off-balance, and I’m about to fly off. Luckily, Wilder is right behind me and grabs me by the waist, pulling me to the ground.
Together, we stand in front of the next staff member, and they ask, “How do you really feel about your sex life?”
This time, I answer first. “Used to be thriving and adventurous, but now I’m too tired and come up with excuses why I don’t want to have sex with him. I have a lot of built-up animosity toward him and don’t have any need to please a man who can’t understand me for the woman I am.”
Wilder looks me in the eyes, seeing the truth right then and there, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. “She’s right. We used to be hot and heavy, and now I don’t think she even knows how to undo my zipper.”
“Oh my God,” I yell. “I know how to undo your zipper. Maybe if you looked up from your video games for a moment, I wouldn’t feel so irritated by you, and I would want to please you.”
“Maybe if you didn’t nag me over and over and over again, I wouldn’t want to get lost in my video games.”
“I don’t nag you.”
“Yes, you do,” he yells. “I can never do anything right. Ever. It’s always your way or no way. You would think that there’s compromise in a marriage. Well, not in this one.”
“Because you don’t help around the house!”
“Because I don’t want to help a dictator,” he yells back, only for the staff member to step aside and allow us to enter the next obstacle.
Bingo.
“You okay?” Wilder whispers as he moves in behind me.
“I am.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” I whisper back.
“Good. You’re doing great, Pips.” He gives me a gentle squeeze on my hip, and pride surges through me. “Okay, this is the one that I’m going to go first on. I’m going to jump, and then I want you jumping after me. I’ll steady the square, and then we can jump to the next one.”
“Got it.”
A single floating square is about three feet away, and this is the one that everyone has been tripping up on. I appreciated Wilder’s insight, if I’m honest. He’s determined to do well and was watching carefully, but he was gentle when he explained his game plan. He must know how much I loathe a mansplainer.
Wilder leaps easily onto the square and then holds his hand out to me with a nod. I get a running start, leap, and then land right in Wilder’s arms as he steadies the square with his legs. Once it stops shaking, he says, “Squat down while I jump off it.”
I squat down on the square. He takes off, sending the square rattling, but I hold on, and then he reaches his arms out, waiting for me on the other side. I get as close to the edge as I can and then jump, my foot nearly missing the target, but because Wilder’s waiting, he’s able to grab hold of me. Then he leans back, sending us both to the ground but staying out of the water.
Playfully, he pats my hip and then helps me up so we’re now facing another staff member.
“Have you ever felt tempted to cheat on each other?”
Wow. Can’t imagine being confronted with this if we were really married. I can’t help wondering what Matt’s answer would be to that one too.
Wilder turns to me, looks me dead in the eyes, and says, “Never. I might get frustrated with you, but I’d never cheat. Ever.”
The sincerity in his voice, the conviction, hits me harder in the heart than I expected, and I attempt to not apply that answer to reality. “Same. I made vows to you, and I’d never do that.”
“Thank you,” Wilder says, his voice almost…shaky. And it stuns me for a moment, because there’s a part of me that believes that wasn’t part of the act. That his answer had meaning behind it. Personal meaning.
I don’t have time to think about it though, because the staff member moves to the side, allowing us to reach the bridge. It’s a rock-climbing wall that leads up to a thin bridge and down a slide for one more question. Once we pass this obstacle, we jump into the lake and swim for shore, and then our time is stopped.
“Get going,” Wilder yells, startling me. “Shit, sorry,” he whispers. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I chuckle, turning my face away from everyone as I say, “It’s fine. Great timing.”
I start up the rock wall, and I’m about to step on one of the pegs when one of his hands connects with my foot and he says, “Push off me.”
He’s right behind me, so I push off his hand, and he sends me right to the top. He scours the rest like a freaking spider, then picks me up, draping me over his shoulder, and runs across the bridge. It’s hard for me to keep it together, because this is so ridiculous, and if we’re doing this for another basket of condoms and dildos, then our hard work will go unrewarded.
But to add to the fanfare, I yell, “Put me down! You never let me do anything.”
“Because you have the coordination of a geriatric wildebeest,” he yells back and then tosses me down the slide.
I roll down and almost off into the water but thankfully hang on.
“You almost threw me off.”
“It would be the first time you were wet in years,” he yells back.
“Doesn’t say much about you.”
He joins me, and we stand in front of Ellison. When did she get here?
With pursed lips, she looks us in the eyes and asks, “Do you feel truly happy in your marriage?”
“No,” Wilder says. “But I know we could be.”
“No,” I answer. “And I like to think there’s potential, but I just don’t know. He’s too selfish.”
“She’s too focused on work.”
“He thinks because he’s helping save the environment with his green roofs that my work isn’t important enough.”
“Because you could be writing about something other than putters.” He leans toward Ellison and whispers, “No offense.”
“We don’t see eye to eye, and I’m not sure we ever will.”
Ellison looks between the two of us and then says, “Say something nice about each other.”
I look at Wilder, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.
My mind draws a blank, and isn’t that incriminating?
Thankfully, Wilder steps in and says, “Even when she’s mad at me, she kisses me good night. Every night. I think it’s her way of saying that we might have a lot of animosity, but there’s still love there. She…she gives me hope, and that’s why I’m here.”
I wet my lips and look Wilder in the eyes. “He reminds me to not be so serious all the time, that there is more to life than just the day-to-day. That it’s okay to break routine. To let loose. To be the person that maybe I hold back from being.”
And isn’t that the most honest thing I’ve said through this entire obstacle course?
Smiling, Ellison moves to the side, and Wilder shouts, “Let’s go, Pips!”
We both leap into the water and swim to the shore. Wilder’s clearly faster than I am, to the point that he comes back and pulls me up by the waist, dragging me across the finish line, where we both sprawl across the grass, gasping for air.
“Impressive,” Sanders says as he stands over us. “Very impressive.”
“Thank…you,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.
“And for the amount of arguing I heard, incredibly impressive.”
“Fueled the fire,” Wilder says as he stands and offers me a hand. He helps me to my feet and then tugs me into his chest. He smacks me on the ass, surprising me. “Good job, Pips.”
When he pulls away, he undoes his wet suit, letting the sleeves and torso fall to his waist and allowing his chest to be on display once again.
Yum.
Okay, just…yum.
And I know I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even be looking, but I’m sorry. Mika’s younger brother is hot. There, I said it. It’s out in the open. He’s hot.
Hard not to notice. And if we were married, I would notice, so this is okay, as far as I’m concerned. Just playing the part…
“Are we sure they answered all the questions correctly?” Chad asks as he walks up to us. “It seems like they were granted access to the next obstacle rather quickly.”
Wilder snaps around to look at Chad in his zipped-up wet suit, all the way to the top of his chin.
“Excuse me? Are you claiming we cheated?”
Chad takes a step back but then gestures toward the obstacle course. “Just seems convenient that you flew through that despite arguing the entire time. Seems like you got some help along the way.”
“Yeah, and it seems like you’re jealous. If anything, we might have been arguing, but we were truthful at every stop. Maybe you need to point that finger at yourself and ask why it took you so damn long. Maybe you were the one not being truthful.”
“We were being truthful,” Chad says, almost stomping his foot at the same time.
Sanders steps in and says, “I can assure you, our staff has been prepped very well to understand the differences between our couples’ truths and lies. I have no doubt that they all were accurately allowing couples through based on their answers. Now, we have one couple left. Let’s watch them before we start fighting.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Wilder says before draping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me off to the side to a log. We both take a seat, and he looks off toward Chad, who is now bitching to Finky. “Looks like we got under his skin,” he says. “How does it feel?”
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good. After him calling me out in the conference room for not wearing a wedding ring, it feels really good seeing him upset over our obvious success. We killed that course.”
“We did.”
“Carrying me like a potato sack wasn’t necessary though.”
“Eh, I thought it was a nice touch. If anything, it looked cool.”
“Cool for you maybe, but I was the one flailing around.”
“Flailing in a cool way.” He bumps my shoulder.
“There is no such thing.”
As the last couple finishes up and the time is being tallied, we remain on the log while everyone gathers around us. Sanders and Ellison speak, nod, and then walk up to the group.
“Well, what a great way to start off the day. I hope everyone feels refreshed, maybe a touch more exposed? Because if we’re not uncomfortable, then we’re not moving together as a team, right?” Sanders fist-pumps the air.
Seriously, was he a coach in a prior life? Because he has all the makings of one.
“As always, we hope you had fun and learned something about each other. We’ll be taking individual meetings today to go over your answers to the questions recorded.”
Great. Looking forward to that.
“But I know what you’re all wondering: who won, and what is your prize?”
Ellison starts a drumroll on her clipboard, and Sanders, into his megaphone unnecessarily, says, “Mr. and Mrs. Price.”
That’s us!
“Told you we’d win,” Wilder says as he stands. “All you had to do was listen to me.”
Seeing where he’s going with this, I stand as well. “It’s rare when listening to you actually pays off.”
“You listened pretty well when we were in the Hamptons, and I’m pretty sure that paid off really well for you.” His voice is dark, deep.
I lean in and say, “I was faking it.”
“Bull shit !” he yells.
“Okay,” Sanders cuts in. “Okay…save it for your session.” He lets out a deep breath and then slaps on a smile and starts clapping. “Let’s give it up for our fastest couple.”
There’s grumbling irritation behind us but some slow claps, celebrating our victory.
“As winners, you’ll receive a basket brought to your cabin later. For now, let’s get washed up and head on over to the dining hall, where you’ll be given your session assignments, and you can make marriage bracelets together.”
Wow, this really is like camp.
Wilder and I start heading in the direction of the dining hall when Sanders stops us.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You two.” He points at us. “You’re up first. Go change, and meet me in the therapy cabin in half an hour. We have some work to do.”