Would You Rather: A Novel
Would You Rather: Chapter 7

On Tuesday, Mia had to wait until Noah stepped out for lunch before she could hide printed photos of Nicolas Cage in every drawer of his desk. He’d seemed quiet last night—which for Noah, essentially meant silent—and she figured their whole situation was putting him out of sorts. It certainly was for her. It would take time for them to settle into a new routine, but in an attempt to keep things as normal as possible, she resorted to their usual antics.

Hopefully it would make him smile.

She was closing the filing drawer to the left of his chair when she looked up and nearly dropped the pile of papers.

Straight ahead, angled just right to be visible from his desk chair, was a photo of her and Noah.

On their wedding day.

Where had that come from? Claire must have given it to him, but when? She hadn’t offered one to Mia.

Mia straightened and picked up the frame. It was taken mere seconds before their kiss. She and Noah were facing each other, her right hand in his left, his other hand hidden in her hair. The longer Mia stared at the photo, the harder it was to breathe.

They looked…into each other. In love. Enamored, even. Mia remembered how nervous she’d felt in that moment—but you wouldn’t know it. Her eyes locked on his and the way her lips were parted just so—she looked desperate for him to close the distance between them.

And Noah? A tingle spread along the nape of her neck. His expression, normally restrained and serious, was bare and exposed, the longing on his face so apparent it was almost uncomfortable to look at.

Mia set the photo down and took a step back, though her gaze remained on the image. Was it real?

Or was he just a good actor?

His words from nine years ago echoed in her brain, so clear it was like he stood behind her now. I was drunk. It was a mistake. I just want to stay friends.

Of course he was acting.

He’d known Claire was taking photos. Knew they’d show them to people, and that they needed to convince others their marriage was authentic.

He’d always been one to plan ahead and consider everything. Handle things with poise and intentionality. Surely that’s what happened here—he’d made sure their secret would be safe.

He was just protecting her, like he always had.

She let out a shaky breath, nodding to herself. She finished her task and snuck back to her desk, giving him a bright smile when he passed by twenty minutes later.

On Wednesday morning, instead of replaceing everything on her desk turned upside down or a foghorn mounted underneath her seat, she was greeted by the most beautiful bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen. The architects had a group meeting every Wednesday, so she waited until she knew Noah would be back in his office before going to him.

He was at his desk, looking at his phone screen. He looked up when she came in, but didn’t smile.

She stopped a few feet from his desk. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

He tipped his head to the side. “Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re fidgeting.”

She stilled her hands and forced her knee to stop moving. He didn’t say more, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting that,” she said.

He stood and walked toward her, stopping right in front of her. “Would you have preferred I fill your drawers with packing peanuts?”

“Yes.”

One corner of his mouth inched up.

“I was trying to keep things as normal as possible,” she added.

His teeth sawed across his bottom lip. “But they’re not. Everything’s different.” He lowered his voice. “At least, it needs to seem that way.”

She glanced out the window behind him and sighed. He was right. Even at home, he’d been more intentional about considering her. That first morning she’d assumed she’d be forcing black coffee down her throat, because that’s how Noah drank it. But when she’d opened the fridge to start the cinnamon rolls, right there in the door was an unopened container of her favorite coffee creamer.

She’d stared at it for so long he asked what she was looking for, and she’d almost burst into tears right then and there. He’d also arranged their electric toothbrushes just so on the bathroom counter, positioning the chargers at a perfect angle so they lined up side by side like little husband and wife appliances.

She needed to up her game, it seemed. She pointed to the frame on his desk. “I saw the new photo. Nice touch.”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I thought they turned out pretty good.”

She pursed her lips and put her hand on his shoulder for balance, going up on her toes to fix his rogue lock of hair. “They? You have more?”

“I asked Claire to email them to me.”

“Oh.”

“I thought people might ask.”

“Right. Good idea.”

He looked over her shoulder and straightened, his jaw going taut. She frowned, and just as she turned to look behind her, a masculine voice came from the doorway.

“Noah—whoops, sorry.”

David smiled at them—wait, David was smiling at her?—and gestured between them. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you two. What a sweet surprise.”

Mia turned back to Noah, and his eyes were strangely hard. It didn’t appear he intended to reply, so Mia smiled back at David. “Thank you. We’re really happy.”

“I can see that,” David said.

“Did you need something?” Noah asked. His voice was as cold as the pint of ice cream Claire always kept in the freezer for emergencies.

“Nothing important,” he said. “You’re busy, I’ll come by later.”

David left, and when Mia turned back to Noah, he was walking back to his desk. He sat down and rubbed a hand across his jaw.

“Is everything okay?”

He nodded.

Now was one of those times she wished she could read his mind. “You sure?”

“Yep.”

His phone rang, startling her. She checked the time and backed out of his office. “That’s probably your conference call. Talk to you later?”

He watched her as she went and she closed the door behind her. She returned to her desk, and gingerly rubbed a soft, pink flower petal between her fingers.

As she leaned forward to inhale the pleasant scent, she hoped this whole thing got easier as time went on. Feeling awkward around Noah wasn’t something she was used to, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Thursday was Mia’s favorite day of the week. It was probably weird to look forward to an appointment at an infusion center, but she got to relax in a comfortable chair, have snacks brought to her, and visit with interesting people. And she always, always stopped for chicken wings afterward.

She was scheduled in Natasha’s section, and sat in her usual recliner. The office had a few secluded chairs along the wall with curtains patients could pull together for privacy, and they were always occupied. Even if they weren’t, Mia would have stuck with this one. She preferred the middle section where the chairs were a little closer together, and she could chat with the other patients.

She supposed she’d earned Noah’s title as “the most social person he’d ever met.”

The downside was there was only one television in this area, and they usually kept it on the Travel Channel. Natasha once explained that the manager thought it was soothing for the patients to see beaches and beautiful landscapes while they got their treatment.

Probably true for most people, but for Mia, those ocean scenes brought waves of guilt. Today was no different as the screen displayed an hour-long special on New Zealand, one of the many destinations her parents had talked about when she was a kid. They’d had a huge map hanging on the wall in the living room with little pushpins marking each place they wanted to visit someday.

Ireland. Japan. Greece.

Brazil. Fiji. Switzerland.

Would they have hit all of them even if she hadn’t gotten sick? Probably not. They’d have tried for as many as possible, though. But now? The financial burden of those first few years of her illness had sent those dreams down the drain.

Mia tried to keep her attention elsewhere, and ten minutes into her infusion, the medical assistant brought an older woman to the chair on Mia’s left side. After taking her vital signs the assistant left, and Mia smiled at the newcomer. Her gray hair was in a long braid down to her waist, and she wore bright red glasses. She looked nervous.

Mia reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped brownie. She held it out. “Brownie?”

The woman gingerly took the offering. “Oh. Thank you.”

“They’re gluten-free, but you’d never know it,” Mia said with a smile.

“Are you my chair mate for the day?” the woman asked.

“Yep. Best seat in the house. Best nurse, too.”

“I heard that!” Natasha called from her computer, a grin on her face.

Mia leaned over. “Flattery gets you everywhere with Natasha.”

“Noted,” the woman said with a smile. She held out her hand. “I’m Barbara.”

“Mia. Nice to meet you.”

“What are you in for?”

She said it like they were in prison, and Mia laughed. “Kinrovi.”

“Never heard of it. What’s it for?”

“I have a rare kidney disease. I’ll need a transplant at some point, but until they replace a match, this keeps things under control.”

“A kidney transplant, huh? My cousin had one of those. Got it from his dad, if I remember right.”

Mia looked down at her hands. “Yeah, family members are usually the easiest way to go.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m adopted, so it’s not an option for me.”

Mia looked up to see the slight wince on the other woman’s face, probably from the way Mia had said it. “Ah.”

“What about you?” Mia asked, changing the subject. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“First time. My doctor’s been wanting me to try this new drug for my Crohn’s disease for a while now, but I held out as long as I could.” She eyed Mia’s arm and shuddered. “I hate needles.”

“I understand. I did too, at first. But Natasha’s so good you’ll barely feel it.”

Barbara took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”

Natasha approached and introduced herself to her new patient. While they chatted, Mia sent Noah a text message.

Mia: Wings?

Noah: Sure.

Mia: They have a new flavor. Orange ginger. Wanna try it?

Noah: Nope.

Mia: Come on.

Noah: Why can’t you accept the fact I like them plain?

Mia: Because it’s weird.

Noah: Some might call it loyal.

Mia: That’s a good quality in a husband, I guess.

Noah: You guess?

Mia: Okay, it’s definitely a good quality.

Noah: Meanwhile, my wife’s out there trying a new flavor every chance she gets.

Mia: Guess you’ll have to replace a way to keep our marriage spicy then, huh?

As soon as she hit Send, she regretted it. She scrambled to replace something else to say, to explain she hadn’t meant it that way. But everything she typed out seemed ridiculous, and she kept erasing it to start over. Finally, another message from Noah came through.

Noah: We’re so different.

They were. As she considered how to respond, Barbara said, “Mia?”

Mia looked up. Natasha had placed the tourniquet on the older woman’s arm and stood at the ready with the needle.

Barbara’s eyes were wide, her lips quivering. “Would you talk to me? To distract me?”

Forgetting all about her conversation with Noah, Mia dropped the phone in her lap. “Of course.” She launched into a monologue about going back to school, and what prompted her interest in pediatric dietetics. She talked about her own issues with eating growing up, and told Barbara that the brownie she’d handed over was one of her many attempts to have perfected recipes at the ready for future patients with allergies or food aversions. Natasha expertly started the IV and left, while Barbara and Mia kept chatting. They spent the rest of the time discussing their favorite recipes and baking techniques, and before Mia knew it, her pump beeped to indicate her infusion was complete.

Natasha disconnected the empty bag and pulled the IV from Mia’s arm.

“See you next week,” Natasha said with a smile.

“I’ll be here.” Mia stood and turned to Barbara. “Will you be back?”

Barbara nodded. “As long as this works, I’ll be here every other week.”

“If you didn’t mind me talking your ear off, ask for Natasha again.”

“I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was lovely meeting you, Mia.”

Mia gathered her things, and as she made her way to her car, she realized she’d left off in the middle of a conversation with Noah. She opened her messages to type out an apology, and found another message from him she hadn’t seen. She slowed her steps, reading it twice, unsure what to make of it.

I guess it’s a good thing opposites attract.

After dinner that night, Noah said he had something for her and disappeared to his room. She cleaned up the table and out of habit separated the extra wings for Claire before realizing she wouldn’t be going back home to take them to her.

She was home.

Instead, she wrapped them up and put them in the fridge, wondering if she’d have time to take them to Claire tomorrow.

Noah reentered the living room and sat beside her. She’d kept her original spot on the couch, and it felt like every other Thursday night.

Except this time, he offered her a ring.

She stared at his open palm and the two circles there. They were silicone, the larger one black and the small one a dark purple.

He took the purple one between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about rings before. But someone asked me, and I realized we should probably wear them.”

She nodded, her throat strangely tight. She took the band, bending it between her fingers.

“They’re nothing fancy. It seemed silly to spend a lot of money. You know, since…” he trailed off.

Why did her heart feel so fluttery, bouncing around inside her chest? This was for appearances, plain and simple. Still, she couldn’t hide the emotion in her voice. “Purple’s my favorite.”

“I know.”

She slid the ring on her fourth finger and watched as he slowly did the same with his. She looked up to replace his ice-blue gaze on her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Not just for the ring.”

“I swear, Mia. If I hear those words from your mouth one more time…”

She grinned. “You’ll what?”

He paused. “I—I’ll think of something.”

She settled back and picked up the remote. “Let me know when you do. It’s Bachelorette time.”

He stood. “You’re on your own with those fake relationships tonight. I still need to pack for Eldo.”

She sidestepped the opportunity to point out a “fake relationship” was exactly what they were doing. “You took off work tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. We’re gone Friday through Sunday morning. My parents are having a little get-together for my mom’s birthday on Sunday, so I wanted to be back for that. Would you mind coming with me?”

“Of course I’ll come.”

He started toward the hallway, then stopped and faced her again. He gripped the back of his neck, worry marring his brow. “Will you be okay? Here? While I’m gone?”

She laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His expression didn’t change. “I don’t know. It’s just…you were always with Claire before. I feel sort of weird leaving you alone.”

“You think I can’t handle living by myself? I have roommates because Denver is expensive, not because I’m incapable of being alone.”

He shook his head, wincing. “No, I just meant…what if something happens and you need a doctor or something?”

Oh.

She frowned a little, still unsure how she felt about that. Part of her appreciated his concern while another rebelled at the thought of him feeling responsible for her. “I feel fine.”

He must have noticed her tone, because he opened his mouth like he might say more, but clamped it shut. He swallowed and nodded, leaving her alone.