Chapter 3: The Couple’s Game and the Kiss

Satisfied, I put away my phone and checked what new trick the show had for us today. “Today, we have a surprise—your partners are joining us…”

Wait, what?

No one looked happy, especially me. How much did the show pay for this? He’s never appeared in public before. I could already picture the trending headline: “Samantha’s Backer Exposed!”

Everyone else sneaked a few curious glances. The Best Actress nudged me. “Isn’t that the guy from last night’s fortune-telling? You two are good.”

“Now, let’s see how in sync you are with your partners. Kids can help answer for extra points. If your answers don’t match, you’ll lose money!”

Lose money, my ass! “Last place loses $450, second-to-last loses $150…”

Eli frowned, and the Best Actress’s daughter, Maddie, started sobbing. “What’s wrong, Maddie?”

“We… we don’t have $450… hic.”

The host comforted her gently. “It’s okay, you can pay it back slowly.”

Maddie cried even harder. Daniel looked calm on the surface. The host asked, “Danny, are you confident in your parents?”

“Not really… They work opposite schedules, so they don’t talk much… and my mom’s memory isn’t great…”

Nice foreshadowing, but you don’t have to drag me down, thanks.

“First question: When and where did you first meet?”

Other teams had time to think, but not us. Daniel and I glanced at Luke Grant without even trying to hide it.

“Six years old.”

That early? Childhood engagement? No way.

“At home.”

Child bride? Can’t say that on TV, man.

I gritted my teeth and copied him.

“Cheater! Samantha’s cheating!” the diva called me out the second she finished writing.

I’ll remember this, traitor.

“Just looking around!”

Barely scraped through the first question. Now everyone was watching, so I had to rely on myself.

“What does your partner like to do most? Write it down.”

Knowing him, probably work. Can’t exactly say ‘exploiting people.’ Flipped the board—wrong. He wrote “watching plays.”

But he got mine right—“acting.” Makes sense—he barely knows Samantha, so he went with her job. Good for the dedicated worker image. But one acts, one watches—awkward. Not my problem, though.

“What’s your partner’s biggest regret?”

I went with the standard CEO drama answer: “Didn’t acquire Johnson Corp.” Wrong.

“That I wasn’t the one who saved her.” His handwriting was bold and upright, unmistakable. Everyone stared like they’d struck gossip gold.

The host, trying to stay composed, asked, “This ‘her’…?”

“My wife.”

Everyone looked disappointed. Just say her name, why be so vague?

“Oh, Samantha, right.” The host laughed it off.

Samantha got into trouble?

I didn’t know, but played it cool. Maybe their relationship wasn’t just a business deal.

He got my regret right, too: Not being able to accept my award in person. When I won the international award, Samantha was locked up by her lover. She didn’t see it as a regret—she thought it was love.

Luke Grant missed Samantha’s regret, but nailed mine by accident. Not that it matters now. I’ve got my own life.

“What’s your partner’s favorite literary work?”

I guessed randomly: “The Outsiders.” What? That’s every boy’s dream.

The host asked Luke Grant, and he hesitated. “Uh… not sure.” He surrendered. “Sorry, I don’t know you well enough. I just wrote my own favorite.”

Flipped the board—“The Glass Menagerie.” Third time in a row he got it right. I was speechless. From what I know, Samantha’s never read that play, probably not even heard of it. Just so happens he likes it, too. That’s what I told myself.

The diva was yelling next to me. “You two are too in sync!”

Ha. You’re so salty.

“It’s whatever. We’re getting by. Not like we can get divorced on TV.”

The Best Actress chimed in. “You two are like an old married couple.”

They all nodded, missing the point entirely. Me: Hello?

To prove I wasn’t the only one confused, I checked Daniel’s answers. The kid’s sharp as a hawk and cheated his way through every answer! He was with the host, looking all serious. “Told you, my mom’s memory isn’t great.”

Not his biological son, but close enough. I gritted my teeth, while the other two laughed.

But soon, they weren’t laughing. The diva came in last and lost $450. The Best Actress came in second-to-last and lost $150. They were now officially broke.

The diva was heartbroken. “Your dad’s dumb, but couldn’t you be smarter?”

Eli was more mature. “Mom, cheating isn’t right. Didn’t you report Aunt Sam?” Good job, honorary son.

The Best Actress comforted her daughter. “Don’t cry, Maddie. Mom will earn it back. You won’t go hungry.”

Little Maddie sobbed, “Sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have sat too close to the TV—I couldn’t see Dad’s answers.”

“What? Who let you watch TV?” The Best Actress glared at her husband. “Was it you? Always spoiling her!”

The actor shrugged. “Just for a bit…”

“If the kid doesn’t know better, shouldn’t you?”

Pure family drama. Meanwhile, thanks to my family’s performance, I made $150. Feeling good.

“Now, if you let your partner do a dare, you’ll get a cash reward. Will you do it?”

“Can we do more than one?” the diva asked.

The Best Actress had just scolded her husband. “Not just now—any time, I’d do it.”

“Since everyone agrees, as usual, the kids will draw.”

What do you mean everyone? Hello? I didn’t agree. But it was clearly a set segment—no use protesting.

This time, no lottery sticks—no way to cheat. Daniel shot his dad a “good luck” look. The dares were varied: show your search history, shopping history, walk like a monkey, hold water in your mouth while watching funny videos, make up a story, rapid-fire Q&A… My nerves were jangling.

No idea why, but this brother-in-law always makes me uneasy. Now it was at an all-time high. But just picturing Luke Grant walking like a monkey… pfft.

“Looks like Samantha’s been waiting for this!” the host joked. Don’t make stuff up!

I snuck a peek at Luke Grant—busted, he was watching me. And he smiled! Not worried at all.

Maddie drew shopping history. The actor praised her through tears. “That’s my girl.” Maddie: “Hee hee.”

Eli drew walking like a monkey. The writer was heartbroken. “You don’t care about your old man at all.”

The diva rolled her eyes. “You’re a writer, who cares about your image? Eli’s awesome, ignore your dad.”

Daniel drew… a ten-second kiss. Thanks a lot. This wasn’t his dare—it was my do-or-die.

The little guy was actually a bit embarrassed, glancing at me, then hiding behind his dad. He stood in front of me, hovering just out of reach. “If you don’t want to, I’ll tell the show.”

He said that, but why did he sound so aggrieved?

“No need, I’m a professional.”

He looked down. “Am I just your scene partner?”

Why does it feel like… he’s acting cute? Can’t handle this—too much.

Enough—let’s just do it. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. He was stunned, then cupped my face and deepened the kiss. When it was over, I was dizzy—it was way more than ten seconds.

The diva didn’t even watch her husband walk like a monkey—she was peeking at us, eyes sparkling. Everyone pretended not to look, but kept sneaking glances.

I felt hot all over, wanted to run. He grabbed my hand and whispered, “Don’t be scared if people give you trouble—I’m the investor.” (Yeah, he funds the show. Figures.)

My brain short-circuited. I just mumbled and ran.

Later I realized—no wonder he wasn’t worried about drawing something weird! Wait, was the ten-second kiss his idea too…? Stop thinking!

The Best Actress checked shopping records—nothing odd, just the actor’s red underwear. She jumped. “Are you allergic to his lips?”

The diva laughed. “Are you allergic to romance?”

Eventually, they told me Luke Grant blocked the camera with his collar, so no one saw our kiss. Only then did I cool off.

Everyone said, “You two are so sweet, like a couple in love.”

Really? But I’m not me.

With all the well-wishes, I finally snapped out of it. It was just a kiss—I shouldn’t get carried away.

The show wasn’t about to let us starve. After the dares, everyone got a generous bonus—except the diva, who still owed $150. As the richest guest, I naturally lent her lunch money.

She clutched my hand, crying. “If I ever get rich, I won’t forget you.”

I pushed her away. “Save the ‘when I get rich’ speech.” Grabbed Daniel and left.

I dried his hair and told him to sleep. He ran off, then ran back. “Have you thought about my dad? He’s already 33—if he waits much longer, he’ll be an old man…”

Cheeky brat. I shut the door, leaving him to lobby his dad outside.

“My real mom doesn’t care about my dad at all, and neither does he. You can relax…”

“You really won’t consider it? I think you like my dad…”

Can’t take this. “Daniel, if you say one more word, you’ll eat plain apples for a week.”

Silence.

After a while, I opened the door—he was still there. Suddenly I remembered. “Daniel, do you have stomach problems?”

He zipped his lips with a finger.

“Speak and I’ll forgive you.” I crouched to meet his eyes.

He blinked, then nodded. “Mom used to lock me in my room. Sometimes she’d forget me when she went out.”

Poor kid. Samantha. I rolled her name around in my mind. I used to envy her—now I just pity her. Why’d you have to do this?

“Got it. Go to bed.”

“Will you think about my dad?”

My face burned. I blurted out, “Why don’t you ask if he’ll think about me first.”

He nodded seriously. “I’ll ask.”

No—don’t! I scooped him onto the bed. “Don’t ask! Forget I said it! Sleep!”

Back in my own bed, I couldn’t stop replaying Daniel’s words and that kiss. The more I tried to stop, the more my mind raced.

Scenes flashed by. I always thought Daniel looked like Samantha’s lover, so I never thought much about it. But now I realized—he kind of looks like Luke Grant.

Guess I’m more exhausted than I thought.