Page 43 of Two Friends in Marriage
Oil and vinegar.
They don’t mix.
But that’s not a good comparison for us.Sure, our personalities are rather different, but we’re similar in many ways, and we’ve been cohabitating in relative harmony for several weeks.
I use an instant-read thermometer to check if the chicken is ready.When it reaches the desired temperature, I take the thighs off the grill and bring them inside.Evan has everything dished out: the salad in small bowls, the pasta on plates.He’s in the process of grating the parmesan.
“Thanks for taking care of the pasta,” I say as I set two thighs on each plate.It’s little things like this, I think, that are helping our marriage work.Showing appreciation for each other.
I have to remind myself not to screw up what we have.
After dinner, I’m more excited about watching a show than I should be.I tell myself it’s because I want to see what will happen, but I know that’s not the only reason.
I take a seat on the couch, on the opposite side from Evan.He turns to me and tilts his head, a question in his eyes.
“It’s warm in here,” I say.
“Do you want me to turn down the thermostat?”
“No, that’s okay.”
We’re on the eighth of sixteen episodes.This particular drama is a romance with a fake engagement, interfering parents, and a chaebol.It’s rather similar to the last one we watched, truth be told, but there’s something comforting in that.
As the camera zooms in on the hero’s fingers brushing the heroine’s, I have a terrible premonition.They’re finally going to kiss in this episode, aren’t they?
“Have you cooled down?”Evan asks.
I jerk my head away from the screen and realize his face is right…there.Without being aware of what I was doing, I cuddled up against him.
It would feel weird to pull back now, so I say, “Um.Yeah.”
Onscreen, the heroine trips and falls into the hero’s lap.Her lips are a hair’s breadth from his, and they look into each other’s eyes for what feels like eternity but is probably just a few seconds.
Is this it?Are they going to…?
I can hardly breathe.
And when Evan shifts against me, I become unbearably aware of him.His side against mine.His hand resting on my waist.
The heroine steps back, and I nearly growl in frustration.Evan releases a huff of amusement—at me, or the antics of the people onscreen?I don’t know, but the rumble of his chest is almost too much for me.
Maybe if I had more experience with these sorts of feelings, I wouldn’t be having such difficulties, but being attracted to someone for the first time in more than nine years is really doing a number on me.
I use all my willpower to focus on the screen rather than the man beside me.
A couple of minutes later, the heroine is having yet another argument with her mom.She leaves in a huff, and I’m both pleased and annoyed when she hightails it out of there and finds the hero waiting for her.He’s leaning against a sleek black car right outside the house.They exchange a few words, and his hand hovers above her cheek for an infuriatingly long time.When his thumb brushes her skin, I’m filled with anticipation.His head dips closer, but still not close enough, and then…and then…
Onscreen, his lips meet hers, and I swear Evan’s hand tightens around my waist.It’s the smallest of movements, and if I wasn’t so attuned to his body, I probably wouldn’t notice.
But I do.
The next thing I know, I’ve launched myself on top of him.He’s on his back now, his head resting on the arm of the couch.For a moment, it’s like time stops—and then my lips crash down on his.
It’s completely different from the other times we kissed, which seem oh-so-long ago now.I’m not thinking about individual body parts this time.No, I’m relieved and exhilarated.
Because he’s kissing me back.
It doesn’t feel like it’s simply an instinctive reaction to having someone else’s lips on his.I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like it matters that it’smylips.
