I'm forty-two, my husband and I have been married sixteen years, and I always thought I knew everything about him. Turns out I didn't, and that might be the best thing that's happened to our marriage.

Gena and I went to a ski resort with two other couples, because just the two of us, there'd be nothing to talk about — we'd been living alongside each other for five years now like two parallel ski tracks. There was live music at the hotel bar that evening, and our friends, a little drunk, set us a dare: slow dance through the whole song without letting go, or we pay for everyone's drinks. I wasn't about to pay for that whole bar, I'd seen the menu.