“You’re late,” the woman with blonde braided hair called out from the dining room table. She sat facing away from the door, staring down into her mug with intensity. 

       The dark-haired man looked up from the doorway as he heeled off his brown loafers, “Come on babe, it was only an hour. The office kept me late to complete a project.” 

       He looked at his partner and the wall she had put between them loomed as tense silence greeted his excuse.  

       “Don’t be mad, we still have plenty of time.” 

       “Do we, Marcus? Do we really?” she asked, still studying her mug of coffee with intensity. 

       “Babe, it’s just game night.” 

       She looked up at this comment, her red-rimmed eyes glaring daggers at the man. “Just game night?! Oh, okay. I didn’t realize our weekly date nights fell under just.” 

       “You know that’s not what I meant.” Marcus wiped his hand across his face as he sighed. “Look, I just had a long day, but I’m still here. I’m sorry I was late and I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner.” 

       He reached out and touched her shoulder. Or well, he tried to. When he laid his hand onto her, she shrugged it off and went into the kitchen with her now empty cup. 

       Okay, not forgiven yet good to know. Marcus thought to himself as he looked at her retreating figure. 

       “So…what are we playing?” he called out, listening as the question reverberated across the soundproofing panels lining the dining room walls. 

       She came out of the kitchen sans coffee cup. Instead, between her hands was a box decorated with candy cane letters and the words “A Child’s First Game Comes to Life.” 

       “Really? Candy Land?” he asked in disbelief as he glanced between her face and the game. “Out of all the games in the world you chose Candy Land?” 

       The woman gestured up with the game before setting it on the table. “Yeah, I thought something easy and laid back would be ideal for tonight, and it's not like it will take all night like Risk or Monopoly since you know, you're tired as it is. Well, I’m a little tired myself.” 

       Marcus held out his hands in front of him, as a form of placation or to put his own barrier up against her, he wasn’t all that certain as to which. “Okay, okay. Heh, Candy Land it is.” 

       “Do you wanna order food?” she asked as she started pulling out the plastic gingerbread man. “I was too busy to make anything.” 

       “No, I’m good. I ate before I came over,” he said as he sat down on the creaky wooden chair. 

       She paused mid-action while pulling out the colored square cards. “You ate before you came…huh, I thought you were late because of work.” 

       He froze before replying, “CJ bought the team dinner for staying late, and I know I should’ve told you about it in a text, but I was just too overwhelmed, ya know?” He looked at the board in desperation to change the subject before she went nuclear. “So… how do we play again?” 

       “I’d have thought you already knew how since you scoffed at the idea of playing it,” the woman said after a moment of straightening the cards into a singular deck. 

       “I just want to know what the rules are. I remember the Candy Cane Forest, a colored road, the ice princess, a mud monster, and that’s all I’ve got.” 

       “Actually, her name is Queen Frostine, emphasis on the Queen.” She tapped the board three times where the queen was located. “And you’re right, knowing the rules in any game is important.” 

       She gestures with the plastic figure, “Well, we each control a gingerbread man, and the goal is to get to the candy castle. We draw cards and whatever image is on it, we go there. On some spots you lose a turn or have to pull a card of the corresponding color to the space you’re stuck in. With me so far?” 

       He nodded and said, “Yeah seems legit—and whoever gets to the castle first wins right?” 

       “That’s what it says… but I think the journey is just as important—if not more so than the destination,” she murmured as she gave the rule sheet a final look.  

       He chuckled as he shook his head. “Aww look at you spouting off inspirational posts from Facebook, but really the object of the game is to win, to be on top. There can only be one winner here.” 

       “I suppose you’re right, in the end there always has to be a winner,” she said while looking forlornly at the game. 

       “Okay, I’ll go first. I got two red squares, so that means I move forward to the second red space, right?” Marcus looked to the woman for affirmation before moving his red piece.  

       Strands of hair escaped her braid as she nodded. 

       “Okay, your go. So, like, where did you get this old thing? I’ve never seen it in your collection, but it looks so used,” Marcus said as he finished his turn. 

       She went ahead and placed her piece on the second yellow square. “Oh, I went to the secondhand shop. You know the one on Bulkan Avenue? It’s full of used goods.” 

       Marcus glanced up with wide eyes. “Across town! That seems pretty far for a game. Isn’t there a closer store nearby? Like, couldn’t you have found this new at Target?” 

       The woman shook her head vehemently in disagreement. “No! I mean, yes, but that’s not the point. There is a beauty in taking in discarded things that were given up by someone else. A form of healing—that there is still hope even if the first owner didn’t take care of it or cherish it the way they should have.” 

       He grabbed a card. It was blue, and he moved to the next space before replying. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. Almost as if it’s alive, but it is just a game. Now if we were talking like a rescue from the pound, I’d see your point but...” 

       She rolled over his words as she took a card and moved two red spaces.        “You know I didn’t have cash on me, so I tried to go to the bank. You see, thrift stores only accept cash these days.” 

       Confused at the change in direction, he got out a “What—” before being cut off again. 

       “The line was too long though, so the security officer told me I might be better off going to the diner next door.” She continued without pause as she moved her piece across Gumdrop Pass. “What was the name of that place? Hmm.” 

       Marcus shifted in his seat as the air became overly warm and he had to wipe the sweat from his brow as he said, “Hey, I think you skipped my turn…I’ll just—” 

       With a snap of her fingers, she proceeded to say, “Ah Dalton’s, that was the name of the place. Cute furniture, lovely menu, the food smelled good too… but you’d know all about that wouldn’t you, Marcus?” 

       She picked up the little red gingerbread man he was using and studied it for a minute before putting it down on the blue space with a black dot. “Hmm looks like you’re lost in the Lollipop Woods. Shame.”  

       Two pairs of eyes met in a gaze. One pair, a red-rimmed predator about to lunge; the other pair, wide-eyed like a thief that had just been caught red handed staring down the barrel of a pistol. 

       He stammered out in a weak tone gesturing to the board, “That’s-” 

       “Cheating, right?” she asked, not willing to break eye contact. “You seem upset. Of course, if I caught someone cheating in a game, I would be...furious.” Her eyes narrowed even further as if daring him to break her gaze. 

       She glanced down at the board as she moved her piece past his. “It’s not so much fun anymore now that someone’s broken the rules—is it? It’s no longer a game at this point, the contract of the rules of the game has been broken. and therefore this,” she gestured to the board, “is just a piece of colored cardboard.” 

       Her gaze met his once more as she pounced. “Just like how you are an intruder in my home.” 

       A moment passed. Then another. Then another.  

       An understanding had passed through their connection at the realization of what game was actually being played, and that it was game over. 

       Marcus stood up on shaky legs as he strode to the door and hastily tried to put on his shoes. One of the laces had undone itself, but he didn’t notice as he looked upon her one last time.  

       “I’m sorry,” he mumbled with shame brewing in his eyes as he walked through the door. He paused as if waiting for something, anything, and after a moment, walked out. 

       The woman stared at the board for a long time after hearing the door close.        She picked up her little gingerbread man and put him on the Candy Castle. It left a rotting feeling of old candied licorice in her mouth as a tear ran down her face. 

        “I win.”