The Seventh Couple Game Was My Last

The seventh time a character card at The Understudy paired my boyfriend with my best friend as husband and wife, what I got, again, was not one inch of distance from either of them.

It's an immersive mystery house: you buy a ticket for a session, and a host walks a roomful of players through a whole day in character.

Their cards came up, and the two of them looked at each other and smiled, then played eight hours with their fingers laced together.

After the session ended, Langston wiped Rosalie's tears away for her and called her wifey, and she laughed and called him hubby.

I had told them to drop the names once a session was over, but Langston turned the question back on me. "How am I supposed to play if I don't commit?

You're going to get mad about that too?" Rosalie said they just hadn't broken character yet.

Then she slid into the passenger seat like she had done it a hundred times, and Langston set it back to the preset he had saved—"Wifey Only." I looked down at my phone and left the group chat, the one with just the three of us.

Chapter 1 The two of them talked the whole way, up front. Neither of them noticed I had left the chat. Not once, the whole ride.

The car pulled to the curb outside Rosalie's building.

She got out of the passenger seat and leaned back in, her voice going soft and petulant. "My hubby's taking another woman home again—" In the driver's seat, Langston huffed out a laugh.

He didn't deny it. He turned and took my hand, his thumb moving slowly over my knuckles. "Baby, wifey's gone. Come sit up front." I stayed in the shadow of the back seat.

The AC blew across me until I was stiff with cold.

I pulled my hand away and looked up at him. "How much longer are you two going to keep playing?" He blinked, then smiled and pinched my knuckles. "Are you mad again?

It was one scene. Is it really worth all this?" I knew that look of his by heart. The one that said: there she goes, being unreasonable again. I took my hand back.

My phone buzzed, one text after another. I looked down. They were from someone in one of my classes. [I ended up in the same session as your boyfriend and Rosalie today.

Total coincidence.] [The host said the two of them were the most committed pair of players he's ever run.] [There was a segment where we had to write love letters.

He filled a whole page, and then he signed it with his own name by mistake.] [You should probably… keep an eye on that.] Three years together, and I had never gotten a love letter from him.

He had written one in character, for someone else. Every line was aimed at me. Even someone on the outside could see that what was between them wasn't normal. "Who's that? A guy?

A girl? Blowing up your phone this late?" He frowned.

I turned my screen off and looked up at him. "Did you write Rosalie a love letter in there today?" A trace of irritation surfaced in his face. "It's written into the script.

When the mood is there, that's how everybody plays it." He always had a reason ready. If it wasn't the script, it was the mood. I pushed the door open and got out.

He came after me and caught my wrist, his patience already thinning. "I'm playing a game with your best friend. What exactly are you so worried about?

Or would you rather I paired up with some other girl in the room? Would that make you happy?" "Enough. I know you're upset that I didn't stay for the movie today. Tomorrow.

I'll go with you, I promise." That afternoon, Langston and I had been at the movies. It was a film I had been waiting a long time to see.

Ten minutes in, he took a call, then turned to me and said Rosalie's session was suddenly short a player and he had to fill in. "I'll come play too." I held on to his hand. "You're new.

You'd drag down the experience for everyone." He patted the back of my hand. "Be good.

I'll watch the movie with you again next time." Chapter 2 I had heard versions of that too many times. He and Rosalie were both veterans of immersive mystery games.

All they had to say was "experienced players only, no beginners," and I was shut out of their world for good. I couldn't focus on the movie.

When it ended, I went over to the mystery house to find him. The clerk at the front desk pointed toward their room and smiled at me. "That session's still running.

Those two who drew the paired roles? Trust me, they're in the flirty stage." "In character the whole way through.

Once they're done playing, they're definitely getting together." I held on to the ticket stub in my pocket and said nothing. I sent Langston text after text.

He didn't answer a single one. I ate dinner alone outside. Then I sat in that shop and waited almost eight hours. They finally finished and came out.

Rosalie still had tears at the corners of her eyes. Langston bent his head and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb, teasing her. "Wifey, stop crying.

You're breaking your hubby's heart." She laughed through the tears and thumped his chest. "Hubby, you're the worst." I was standing right there, close by.

But they were still deep in the story, and neither of them saw me. That was the moment I knew we were done. Out on the sidewalk, I worked at prying his hand off mine.

His phone rang. The screen said Wifey. There was a time when that was his name for me in his contacts. Mine, and nobody else's. The hand gripping mine let go all at once.

I could hear Rosalie's voice coming out of the earpiece, shaking. "There's a strange man at my door and he keeps trying codes on my lock… I don't know what to do, I'm so scared…" He panicked instantly. "Don't be scared.

I'm coming right now!" The words were barely out before he turned and ran for Rosalie's building. I hesitated, and then I followed him.

Rosalie and I had known each other since elementary school. In middle school, when I was being bullied, someone poured red ink all over my seat.

I was a mess, and she was the one who took off her jacket to cover me up and pulled me down the hall to find a teacher.

I fished the pepper spray out of my bag and kept it in my fist as I stepped into the elevator. The elevator opened on the eighth floor, where Rosalie lived.

Sure enough, there was a man standing in the hallway outside her door. He saw us, caught off guard. "Wrong door," he said, and slunk off.

The door opened from the inside, and Rosalie came flying out and threw herself into Langston's arms. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, shaking all over.

Langston patted her back to calm her and softened his voice. "It's okay. Don't be scared." I watched him lower his head until his chin rested on the top of hers.

His palm moved over her back, one slow stroke after another.

I put the pepper spray away and heard myself speak. "Langston, let's break up." The two of them came back to themselves and stepped apart.

Langston sounded exhausted. "Miranda Quill, what are you making a scene about now?" Rosalie came over and pulled at my arm, her voice still thick from crying. "Randa…" "There won't be any more scenes.

And the two of you don't have to act anymore either." I pushed her hand away, turned, and got into the elevator. I called an Uber, and it headed toward home.

Langston didn't come after me. I couldn't help remembering how he had chased me from high school all the way through college.

He was a rich kid at the bottom of the class, and he gave up the school overseas his family had already lined up. He gave it up for me.

The winter before senior year, he parked outside my house at five thirty every morning with breakfast, and gave me a ride to go study.

Even sick, he kept grinding through practice tests and vocabulary. In the end he really did throw everything he had at it.

He applied Early Decision to Vesper, the school I had picked, and he didn't apply anywhere else. And he got in. Everyone said he really loved me.

Even my best friend, Rosalie, was in his corner helping him win me. Chapter 3 To this day I still remember my birthday freshman year.

Rosalie kept it from me and got a whole crowd in on it, and tricked me into coming down to the common lounge in my dorm.

Langston was standing in the middle of that packed room, and he told me he loved me in front of every single person there. That was the day I finally said yes to him.

He held me, and his tears came down one after another, and every one of them burned straight through me.

He said back then that I was so hard to chase, he had already made up his mind to spend his whole life chasing me. But somewhere along the way, he and Rosalie kept getting closer.

Close enough that there was no room left between them for me. So his forever only lasted until today. Back at the apartment, I pulled out my suitcase and started packing.

A year ago Langston had coaxed me into moving out of the dorms and into this place, the apartment his family had bought him off campus.

Moving out with no warning, all I could do was call my brother. The second I heard his voice my throat closed up. "Hey.

I broke up with him… Can I come stay with you for a few days?" There was a pause on the other end, and then he was talking fast. "Did that little punk do something to you?

How much stuff do you have? I'm coming to get you." "Not much.

Just one suitcase." "Crap, I've had a couple drinks, I can't drive." He thought for a second. "Hang on, I'll send my roommate. He's playing basketball right near you anyway." "Okay.

Tell him I'm sorry for the trouble." The keypad lock beeped. The door swung open. Langston came in wheeling a pink suitcase. Rosalie was right behind him.

He met my eyes, pressed his lips together, and said it flatly. "She's scared to be home alone.

She's staying with us for a few days." Then he turned away and asked Rosalie if she was hungry, if she wanted to order something to eat this late.

He had been too busy to mention to me that she was moving in. Lucky for me, we had already broken up. Whoever he brought home was none of my business now.

I looked away, sat down beside my suitcase, and went back to folding clothes.

Rosalie's eyes went straight to the open suitcase behind me. "Randa, where are you going with a suitcase this late?" "We broke up, so I'm moving out." I didn't even look up.

Langston's face darkened. He crossed the room in two strides and grabbed my wrist. "I never agreed to break up.

Can you stop making a scene at this hour?" I shook him off and stood the suitcase upright. "I don't need your permission to break up with you." Rosalie leaned in and tugged at my sleeve. "Randa, don't be like this, whatever it is we can talk about it—" She never finished.

Her phone rang. A video call request popped up on her screen. She hesitated for a second, then answered. "Mom, why are you still up?" "Where are you?

That's not your place, is it?" Her mother sounded confused. Rosalie stalled for two seconds. Her mother laughed like everything had just clicked. "You're at Langston's.

Sweetheart, you moved in with him and you didn't even tell me." "Mom, stop it!" "All right, all right. I was young once too. If you're living with him, just look after yourself.

Use protection. If something happens, you're the one who has to live with it." The words came down on me like hail, one after another.

I gripped the handle of my suitcase and went cold from my head all the way to my feet. Rosalie's face flushed scarlet. "Mom, do you hear yourself?

Goodbye, I'm hanging up!" The call ended. She turned around and caught my arm, awkward now. "Randa, don't take that the wrong way.

You know how my mom is, she never stops asking if I'm seeing anyone…" "I just had Langston pretend to be my boyfriend so he could come home with me one time and meet my parents." Chapter 4 "You know how it is, we're so used to playing off each other that we got it right past my mom.

It really wasn't anything…" Listening to her explain, I suddenly found it funny. He had never met my parents. He had gone home and met hers first. Acting, they called it.

They had been living in the scene for a long time. And me, the supporting player. It was time I walked offstage.

I pushed her hand away and let out a scoff. "If you like him, take him home with you every year from now on." The color drained out of Rosalie's face.

Langston grabbed the handle of my suitcase and gave me a cold smile. "I told you it was fake. You're determined to pin something on the two of us, aren't you?" "Fine.

You walk out that door tonight, and I'll make it true. I'll give you exactly what you're accusing me of." He was betting I wouldn't go.

He was using "if you leave, I'll really be with her" to make me back down. I laughed once, looked down, and pried his fingers off the handle one at a time. The doorbell rang.

I was done arguing with either of them. I wheeled my suitcase over and opened the door. The motion light in the hallway came on.

A man was leaning against the door frame in a basketball jersey, spinning a set of car keys around one long finger.

He saw me and the corner of his mouth curved. "I'm here to take you home." I froze where I stood. How could my brother's roommate be him? I