My Childhood Love Came Back for Me

Flustered, I tried to communicate in English.

My three-dollar English was hopeless.

I could only catch that the owner was introducing the art pieces.

My broken English and halting explanations hit a wall. The owner noticed I’d come alone and probably thought I was lost.

(After all, if you don’t understand French and your English stinks, traveling alone would be odd.) She hurriedly asked if I needed help—just as I was about to reply, Ethan appeared.

He took my hand naturally.

Told the owner I was his wife.

And apologized for causing any trouble.

So awkward.

I’d embarrassed myself in front of him again… I felt mortified and, not knowing what to say, slipped my other arm through his and moved closer.

Sensing our closeness, the owner stopped asking.

Outside the shop, Ethan sounded a little upset. “Can you stay by my side and behave? Don’t wander off, okay? I only looked away for a second and you were gone—do you know how worried I was?”

I felt a little wronged and pouted. “Well if you’d stayed close just now—”

I wasn’t trying to wander off… “You’re the one who’s supposed to be apologizing. I’m the one who’s upset. Seriously.”

He smiled helplessly.

Why is he smiling?

It was his fault for not keeping up.

Before I could keep arguing, his hand tightened and our fingers intertwined.

“Is this close enough?” he asked.

His grip was so firm I couldn’t pull away even if I wanted to… Was it useful to say no?

After dinner that night he walked me around the shops.

I felt like I should buy something local in Provence.

“What about this one?”

I held up a cream-colored dress with a French square neckline to show him.

“Not really,” he said.

Such a downer.

Shouldn’t have asked.

I ignored him and kept browsing, then my eye caught a silk red slip dress—thin straps, calf-length, with a side slit well above the knee.

Sexy, a little daring.

“I want to try this.”

This time I didn’t ask Ethan. I told the saleswoman in English and went into the fitting room.

When I stepped out I realized it looked even better on me.

This red wasn’t bright scarlet but a wine-tinged shade that felt intoxicating.

The fishtail hem emphasized the drape, and the silk made my skin look smooth and fair.

“Do you like it?”

I twirled for Ethan; the skirt fluttered prettily.

I was sure he wouldn’t say it was ordinary!

He stared at me for a moment, head-to-toe, then raised an eyebrow and swallowed.

“I hope you always wear dresses when I’m around,” he said.

I didn’t immediately get what he meant—his comment seemed to answer nothing—so I looked at him blankly.

“I mean, it’s beautiful,” he clarified.

Of course my taste was on point!

I bought the red dress, then changed back into my white one.

Ethan had been buying for me since we got to Provence. I felt bad I hadn’t bought much for him.

“Let’s go to the men’s shop. I’ll buy you some clothes—you wear too many plain things.”

He dresses well enough for work—shirts and slacks—then keeps his day-off look very simple. A waste of a handsome face!

I don’t shop men’s often, but we finally found a casual men’s store. He idly picked out white tees and complained they were too plain.

Isn’t there a professional designer here to help pick?

We kept browsing and I spotted a pastel pink T-shirt—springtime honey-pink—with a cute little bear print on the side.

I wanted to be playful and make him try it on.

“How about this one?”

“No.”

“But I want to see you in it. Your wardrobe is all white—try another color.”

“No.”

“I’m a real designer—don’t you trust my eye?”

“No.”

“Come on, try it. It won’t hurt. I want to see you in it.”

“Fine…”

He’s weak to charm.

I was delighted. Even so, I couldn’t help laughing when I saw him in it.

“What’re you laughing at?”

He seemed puzzled by my odd amusement.

“Nothing. You look younger.”

A serious guy like him in a little bear shirt had a certain adorable contrast that hit me right in the soft spot.

“How dare you say I’m old?” Ethan asked, clearly not getting my meaning.

“No, not at all.” I avoided the subject. He looked good in it anyway. Pale skin lets him wear pink.

“This one then. I think it suits you.”

“No.”

“Why not? I like it—I could wear it too.”

“I’ll wear it if you get one.”

“Really?”

A flicker of hope.

“You buy one too, and we can match.”

Just that? Of course I’d agree. If it means seeing him in it, I don’t care. It even came in a small size I could wear.

The bear print was adorable!

“Okay. I’ll match you.”

Somehow that silly bear pink T-shirt became our first matching outfit—odd, but since he agreed, everything was negotiable.

We stayed three days in Provence and saw almost everything on our list.

“Want to go to England for a few days? I can introduce you to my friends,” he said.

This was unexpected, but he seemed prepared. He’d studied in England since college and had been there almost eight years.

Fine—travel’s travel.

“But I don’t know your friends—won’t that be awkward?”

“With me there, what are you afraid of? My friends are Chinese too. You won’t be awkward.”

“All right.”

We packed, and on the fourth day we flew to England.

After dropping our bags at the hotel and freshening up, we went to meet his friends.

I wasn’t going to lie—I was nervous. Since we married, aside from his parents I’d met almost nobody else. We’d reconnected and married within three months; the wedding was simple and only close family and friends were notified. We’d barely had time for wedding photos.

I wasn’t too hung up on the formalities. Still, on the way to meet his friends I was fidgety, imagining what to say.

I really don’t handle these situations well… Ethan noticed my nerves.

He didn’t say anything—just held my hand quietly, as if lending me strength that way.

What else could I do? I had to trust him.

When we arrived, one of his friends saw us first and waved us over to sit.

I didn’t know what to say, so I pretended to look around the room.

They’d booked a Western restaurant filled with lots of greenery—kind of a tropical-rainforest-meets-industrial vibe.

It was a strange pairing, but it worked in a fun way.

“This is my wife, Sophie. These are my college buddies,” Ethan said, introducing us.

Three of his friends had come.

They were loud and lively, which only made my awkwardness worse.

I sat there, smiling politely and answering when spoken to.

“Ethan, man, that’s cold of you! You’ve only been back half a year and you’re already married. We didn’t even get to come to your celebration! Why hide such a gorgeous sister-in-law from us?” his friends teased, cutting in from all sides.

“It wasn’t sudden. I did tell you guys. You were just busy,” Ethan said.

“You told us too late—we couldn’t make it. Besides, who’s this sister-in-law? We don’t even know her! Do you still consider us brothers?”

“I didn’t have time to shoot wedding photos, either. That’s why I’m bringing her here to meet you guys.”

“Don’t you dare mistreat her just because she’s pretty. You’ve got to do the wedding pics right!”

“Got it! We would never ask her to do anything she didn’t want.”

Their banter went back and forth like that.

I picked at my steak, not daring to eat with abandon, trying to look ladylike.

“Ethan, I wanted to ask—your style’s changed so much since we last saw you. How long’s it been?” one of them asked, nodding at what he was wearing.

I had picked out that bear-print pink shirt for him. Seeing him in it made me want to laugh.

“What choice did I have? My wife likes it,” he said, looking at me.

All eyes turned to me, and I got even more embarrassed.

“Dude, you didn’t treat the girls in college like that at all. How come you come back and marry your sister-in-law so fast? I figured you’d be the last of us to get married.”

“Maybe I finally met the right one,” he said, his gaze steady on me.

“After all these years and you run into her right away? You two must be fated.”

“We are,” he replied.

“But getting married so fast doesn’t sound like your style. Tell us—what did she do to win you over?”

“What else but liking her?” he answered.

Liking.

It was the first time I’d heard that word come out of his mouth.

I’d married him because he felt right, but I never thought it was out of love. After all, even now, we’d only re-met three months ago. I didn’t know when he’d fallen for me. He’d never showed it—our kiss happened because I got drunk and went to him.

“What about you? What made you marry him so fast?” one of his friends asked me.

“Because he’s kind and thoughtful with me,” I answered, skirting the question. Luckily, they didn’t pry further.

They carried on with small talk while I smiled and nodded along, my mind replaying the word he’d just said. I realized how little I really knew him.

After dinner with his friends, we didn’t take a cab straight back to the hotel. We walked, letting the food settle.

London’s streets were different from Provence—full of English charm.

“Didn’t like the meal? You barely ate,” Ethan asked.

“No, it was good. Just a little…unfamiliar,” I said.

“Unfamiliar because they were so loud?” he guessed.

“No. I just thought your friends would be quiet like you. I didn’t know how to talk to people so energetic,” I admitted.

“Long time no see makes people extra enthusiastic. Hope they didn’t scare you,” he said.

“Not at all. I was worried they thought I was too quiet—they caused a couple of awkward lulls,” I said.

“They know you’re shy,” he smiled.

I felt a little embarrassed. I wasn’t actually shy—just thrown by the way he’d said, “What else but liking her.” I panicked. Did he really like me, or was he just saying it in front of his friends?

Since the honeymoon, things between us felt different. I couldn’t tell when it had started, but we’d gone from strangers to holding hands, hugging, kissing—so much in three short days, much of it accidental.

“Ethan, can I ask—” I began.

He cut me off before I finished. “I know what you want to ask, Sophie. I’ve never been one to settle. Least of all when it’s about marrying you.”

He stopped and looked at me with so much feeling it made me dizzy. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I knew you didn’t love me yet,” I said, and for a moment he looked disappointed. I didn’t know what to do.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I won’t force you into anything. But if you come to me willingly… I can’t promise I’ll hold back,” he added, hinting at the time I’d kissed him drunk.

“When did you start liking me?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“A few words can’t cover it,” he said. “It’s a long story.”

“Then tell me. I’ll listen,” I said.

Instead, he took me to grab something to eat. After a day out, we collapsed back in the hotel. “Go freshen up. I’m going to lie down and watch TV for a bit,” I said and lost myself in my show.

I didn’t notice when he finished washing and sat beside me. On screen, the lead man had just lied to the woman and got slapped. Then he didn’t argue—he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her in a long, lingering way.

“What is this?” Ethan’s voice startled me. “When did you come out of the bathroom?”

“When they were arguing,” I mumbled, pointing at the show. Embarrassingly, it was sweet when I watched alone, but with him next to me, the kiss felt excruciatingly long—every extra second made me more twitchy. He seemed perfectly calm.

“Do girls like that? Solve fights with kisses instead of talking?” he asked.

“Um…not me,” I answered. “I’d rather hear him explain and clear things up. Then maybe go out for a great meal—that’s how you get rid of the anger.”

“Got it. I’ll try not to make you mad. But I’ll always take you for good food,” he said.

I wasn’t complaining—good food I could accept.

The kiss scene finally ended. I stayed on edge the rest of the episode, worried the pair on screen would escalate again. Of course they did: after making up, they went home and the make-out session got even more intense. I wanted to bury myself in a hole.

“Are you always that calm watching shows?” I asked, comparing my meltdown to his composure.

“You’re pretty experienced,” he teased.

“I’m not—except for the last time you kissed me,” I snapped. Could we not keep bringing that up?

“You were chased by girls in college, weren’t you?” he countered.

“I didn’t pay attention,” he said—defensive. I found it hard to believe a face like his was ever ignored.

“Really?” I challenged.

“No reason to lie. But you looked experienced last time,” he said.

“No, I didn’t,” I protested. “You dated someone in college, didn’t you?”

“How do you know?” I hadn’t told him that.

“My mom mentioned it,” he said, and I realized my mother had talked too much—hopeless. “Youthful recklessness. I’m going to wash up.”

When he left, I took the evasive route too.

Later, I saw him back at his laptop working. On our honeymoon, he still found time to work, which meant I could binge my shows without disturbance. I lay on my side watching, the familiar routine settling in. When he finally closed his computer, I was sleepy.

“You said you wanted a little story this afternoon. Do you still want to hear it?” Ethan asked.

“Of course—I do. Tell me,” I said, suddenly attentive.

“The truth is, we really re-met a year ago, not three months,” he began.

“Huh? When? I don’t remember.”

“You didn’t really remember me then,” he said. “My mom was in the hospital, so I came home to be with her for a few days. You were visiting your mom, too, but you left quickly—you had something to do.”

“Oh—wait, I remember. My team had a big client and we had to rush back to fix a design. That client was a nightmare. But I don’t remember you being there.”

“I ran into you when I went to get medicine for my mom. I recognized you right away—you hadn’t changed much and you looked like you did as a kid. You didn’t seem to recognize me.”

“I was too focused on work to notice,” I admitted.

“I was used to it. When I went back to the ward I asked my mom if that was really you and I asked her for your contact info,” he said.

“Then why didn’t you ever reach out?” I asked.

“I didn’t know how to open the conversation. I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me,” he said.

Suddenly contacting you out of the blue felt awkward.

And I was only going back for a few days anyway — then I had to return to England to finish my thesis.

"And after that?"

"After I had your contact info, I started searching every platform for you. I actually found you on Weibo."

"You looked at my Weibo?"

Ugh — I treat my Weibo like it's invisible; it's full of ranting… "There were thousands of posts. I don’t know how many nights I spent scrolling before I finished."

Oh my god!

Why do I feel like I'm socially dead in front of him at every moment… "You don't have to—it's just everyday stuff…"

"At the time I thought you were really interesting. I used your Weibo as my daily dose of happiness. During those thesis nights, your posts kept me sane."

"Stop. Please stop. I don't want to hear it…"

"Then I'll say something you want to hear. After finishing school stuff, I went back home after graduation. I planned to wait until my job settled down before finding you, but when I started the company, I was swamped learning the business. Luckily, we needed designers for an R&D product and I knew you worked at a design firm, so I thought maybe there’d be a chance to meet you properly."

"So when I saw you at our firm, it was all arranged by you?"

"I don't have that kind of authority. I just pushed it along a bit as a favor. Mostly it was because your firm was talented."

True — our design firm did have a decent reputation.

"Okay. And then?"

"Then…you really had no conscience. You’d forgotten me completely. During the handoff, I tried to gauge you several times and you didn't remember me. Your design was about to finish, and I feared I'd miss my chance. So I mentioned you a few times to my mom. Luckily, my mom was practical and teamed up with your mom to nudge us into a blind date."

"I only just discovered you were so scheming? I thought it was all coincidence. Turns out you’d arranged everything! No wonder our blind date felt so easy."

"This isn’t scheming. It's creating opportunity. There's no way it's all coincidences — I saw you on Weibo."

Ugh… I posted a Weibo the night before the blind date hoping the guy who came would be a polite, normal man… "So when did you start liking me? Enough to create all those opportunities?"

"I liked you the moment I saw you again."

"Just that one look?"

"Isn't love at first sight a thing? And your Weibo was funny—imagine the real you."

Don't mention my Weibo again!

I was only visible for half a year!

"I didn't even know you liked me for a whole year."

He sounded guilty. Of course I felt some debt — someone loved you quietly for that long.

"I feel lucky — three months after the blind date you married me. Maybe not for love, but the outcome's good."

He said that and slowly leaned in, pressing down close.

So close.

"Now all that's left is for you to like me."

What is he doing? Getting that close!

"You said you wouldn’t force me—"

Scared!

Is he going to kiss me?

I couldn't look at him, eyes shut tight. I couldn't back away further… snap!

The light went off.

False alarm.

"I won't bully you. Once the story's finished, it's time to sleep. Good night."

He turned over and slept.

No experience my foot.

He was totally smooth.

Why is my heart pounding like this?

Thump thump thump—

It was because his sudden move startled me! I should never let him get that close again. Too dangerous!

Day five of the honeymoon, Ethan took me to his university.

It was the place he'd lived for seven years.

Strolling the campus, modern and classical buildings collided everywhere.

"Your school is huge!"

A soul-deep compliment.

It felt several times bigger than my old school. I always knew he was impressive, but I hadn't realized this much. When we played as kids, I didn't think there was such a gap between us… What did he go through all those years apart? "At first it was okay. Stay long enough and you get used to it."

Okay, stop humble-bragging.

"I remember when we were kids you used to follow me everywhere, doing whatever I said, crying and easy to bully. I never thought you'd be this outstanding years later."

It just made the world's unevenness more obvious… He used to be clingy — he always came over during breaks with my favorite snacks, never fought me over the TV, just sat and watched Sailor Moon with me… glued together. Now that pudgy kid who followed me everywhere had become someone I felt unworthy of. I can't figure out how I ever moved him… To be blunt, if he didn't like me, with my background I probably would never meet someone this excellent in my life.

"You haven't changed much from when you were a kid — still fun."

Why does he always say I'm fun? I'm just a bit silly…

We chatted about childhood back and forth on campus when a pretty girl walked up, eyes fixed on Ethan, ignoring me completely. "Senior! When did you get back? Why didn't you tell me?"

Is she… a love interest?

I sat back to watch.

Ethan answered, "[My wife and I are nearby, thought we'd swing by since it's close to school.]"

"Wife? You got married? When?"

She still didn't see me.

"Three months ago. I haven't introduced her yet — this is my wife, Sophie Miller."

Only then did the girl's gaze shift to me. She sized me up, said nothing. The silence felt awkward, so I forced myself to speak. "Hi, I'm Sophie Miller, Ethan's wife."

The girl ignored me.

"Senior, why'd you get married so suddenly? You didn't tell me."

A little hurt, maybe.

"Yeah, it was sudden. I didn't have time to tell friends here."

"That's on you. Since we happened to meet, want to grab a meal?"

"No, thanks. My wife might not be comfortable."

Ethan looked at me like he wanted me to handle it.

"I can go. It's about lunch time anyway. And I want to see what your campus food's like!"

I pretended not to get his hint. Why not indulge pretty girl's wishes? It's just a meal, won't cost me anything. Plus — gossip.

We ate in the campus canteen. The pretty girl pestered Ethan about how we met, fell in love, and got married. I sat there, enjoying the show. Her intentions were obvious — I wasn't going to rain on her parade.

After the meal, Ethan hadn’t eaten much — he'd been fending her off the whole time. Even with his perfunctory answers, she persisted for a long time before giving up. Her determination was impressive — she could do anything with that will.

When she left, Ethan finally breathed.

I’d never seen him at a loss before.

"You put on a good show," he said with mock resentment.

"She's pretty and smart and persistent. Why didn't you go for her back then?"

Genuine praise. I couldn't fault her; I'd probably have failed.

"I didn’t feel that way."

"Honestly, you've always had a lot of female attention since school started. Want this luck? I'll give it to you."

Laughable — he'd never been so flustered. "Of course I want it! Who wouldn't like a pretty, smart girl?"

"I don't. I like you."

I can't tell if he's teasing me.

Day six of the honeymoon. The last day. Tomorrow we pack and go back to work. I'm a little sad the trip is ending.

The night before he asked what I wanted to do the next day.

"You go home clutching dramas every night. Want to go to the Globe and see a play tomorrow?" Ethan asked.

"Highbrow art will put me to sleep…"

"How about the museum? The V&A often has world-class exhibits. Interested?"

"Yes! Seeing the masters will help cultivate my artistic side."

"Tower Bridge, Big Ben, the Thames, Westminster — they're all nearby. We can hit them too."

"Okay, up to you. But…"

"But what?"

"Can you take me to a bar? I've never been. My mom forbade it. Since you're here, can you take me?"

"No."

"Aww, I've accompanied you to so many places. Just this once?"

"No. Don't even think about it. And don't say I'm the one 'accompanying you' — it's all me accompanying you."

"Aww, don't be so picky… I'm curious. I've seen nothing. This trip's a chance to see the world."

"You forgot what happened last time you got drunk—"

"I won't drink alcohol. I'll have juice."

"I could take you to a juice bar. But not a bar with alcohol."

"I just want to see people dancing. I've heard it's so fun!"

"What's fun about dancing at a club?"

"You've been?"

"They dragged me a few times in school. It was awful. I don't understand why people enjoy it."

"You've been, so I must go! All my friends have gone except me."

"They all say it's not fun."

"But I want to go so I can judge for myself. I promise I won't run off. I'll stay by your side the whole time. It's purely a cultural experience!"

"Still—"

"No buts. It's decided. Night, I'm going to sleep first!"

She said it so fast, afraid he’d change his mind. I'll become the only girl from our village who’s been clubbing! (Not really.) I was so excited for this day.

I even wanted to wear that short skirt I picked out for my first club night, but Ethan absolutely refused!

He even threatened me that if I dared to change into anything else he wouldn't take me… I had no choice but to pull the most conservative, proper, ankle-length skirt out of my suitcase.

Even then Ethan still wasn't fully at ease—he lectured me for ages about what to watch out for.

What could I say? Whatever he said went… After a whole day of sightseeing, the part I’d been looking forward to most—the heart-pounding dancing—was about to start.

Before we headed into the club I did a little prep.

(Like, how to dance without acting like a complete newbie…) I hadn't even finished getting nervous when Ethan grabbed my hand tight.

He warned me again and again not to run off and to stick by his side.

That said, he couldn't literally be glued to me every second.

Everyone has to deal with nature's calls now and then (not that I'm admitting anything). Once we were inside, the music completely swallowed everything else—I couldn't hear a thing.

Oh my God!

How insanely loud is this?

No matter how much I prepared, I was still a total rookie here.

It took me a while to adjust to the chaos… After we sat down, Ethan ordered me a juice.

Two people drinking juice in a club looked so out of place… I stared at the neon and glitter feeling totally awkward.

Handsome men and gorgeous women were grinding and jumping to the beat.

But as a married woman, I felt no of-the-moment, worldly desire at all.

Turns out it's really not fun… I hadn't been here long, but I was too embarrassed to ask Ethan to leave—afraid he'd laugh at me. "Still going to dance?"

He must've seen I was uncomfortable.

"I'm… full. I won't dance for now. I'll just drink a little more juice…"

Stubborn until the end—I was actually just chicken. The more juice I drank, the more I needed the restroom. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"I'll go with you."

"Isn't that inappropriate… the women's room…"

"Then be careful. Don't run off. I'll wait right here."

Ethan repeated his warnings.

Where on earth could I go?

But I didn't expect that after I came out of the restroom a drunk, burly guy latched onto me.

He was slurring; my English isn't great… I couldn't understand him at all. I didn't want to engage, but he kept holding my arm and I couldn't pull away. Maybe we were making a scene—people stopped dancing to stare.

I started to panic. I wanted Ethan so badly… The thought had barely crossed my mind when I saw him appear in front of me.

He grabbed the drunk guy's hand, trying to pull him off me.

It didn't look like he was getting anywhere… In the end the bartender had to come over, and only after Ethan explained things did the situation calm down.

They hauled the drunk guy away and suddenly it was just the two of us.

Ethan's face was stormy and dark, and I was too scared to look up at him… After a long moment, he squeezed my hand and led me out.

He didn't say a word the whole walk back, and I didn't dare speak either… Only when he brought me back to the hotel did he finally let go of my hand—breathing hard, like he was angry.

"Sophie!

Didn't I tell you—"

"I know you told me not to run off. I didn't run. That man kept grabbing my arm. I couldn't push him away… I couldn't understand what he was saying… I was really scared… I'm so upset… Please don't be mad at me…"

Maybe it was the whole scene, or maybe his angry look that had scared me.

When he started talking, my feelings of grievance came pouring out… I couldn't help crying. I knew he'd be angrier, but I felt so wronged.

"I wasn't trying to be mad.

But, Soph—I'm really scared too."

It was the first time I'd heard him say he was scared.

I'd thought a guy like him could handle anything… Seeing worry flood his eyes, I felt like this time I really had left him feeling helpless. "Clubs really aren't fun at all… I'm never going again!"

I said it to put him at ease.

But honestly, I wouldn't go again.

Definitely turning into an old married woman…

I just can't fit into young people's scenes… That night, after showering, I spent ages packing.

I’d brought a lot to begin with, had bought things while we were out, so my luggage was overflowing… It was late by the time I finished. Lights off, lying in bed, I replayed the day—my heart felt odd.

Traveling alone with him these past days had, little by little, brought us closer.

It felt like childhood again—Ethan trailing after me through every mood. When I was fretting over trivial things, he interrupted my thoughts.

"Soph… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so harsh tonight…"

I hadn't expected him to apologize.

After all, no one wanted that to happen.

"I was wrong too… I shouldn't have insisted we go there… You'd warned me… I shouldn't have been so stubborn…"

I took his kindness for granted sometimes—yeah, I could be ungrateful. "You were like that when you were a kid too. It's my fault I couldn't stop you from causing trouble."

"Was I?"

No way.

"Were you?

How dare you say that!

Remember when you never did your homework and always copied mine?

Sometimes you were so into the TV you wouldn't even copy; you'd get me to do it for you and call it 'helping me reinforce the lesson.' You always had some grand-sounding excuse to get me to do things for you…"

"Was I really like that as a kid? If I bullied you like that, why did you still follow me around doing stuff for me?"

"I don't know either.

No matter how ridiculous your requests, I just couldn't refuse."

"Heh, proves I'm amazing!"

"It proves you had me wrapped around your finger since we were little. Even now you can't shake it."

"I'm not the one doing anything—you're the willing one!"

"Yes, yes, I was willing."

Heh!

"But I've always wondered.

You liked me so early on—so why after we got married did you seem to ignore me so much?"

"I wasn't ignoring you.

I could tell you weren't used to things yet.

You'd always be glued to your phone watching shows. Seeing you so absorbed, I didn't want to disturb you. And the time right after we married was busy—I'd just started at the company…"

"I saw you come home and crawl in front of your computer, so I didn't dare bother you…"

"So it just happened that neither of us bothered the other.

Really, being together is fine either way."

Even if I didn't fully love him yet, I liked being with him.

"Then how could you sleep in a different room just a few days after we married?"

"I couldn't help it.

Your pink lace sheets—I couldn't take it."

"Pink lace sheets are beautiful!

Your previous place looked like a model home—I couldn't stand it."

"That was definitely a model home."

"…"

"Which is exactly why I needed a designer like you."

"Fine, I'll design, but family discount—20% off."

"Isn't all the money on the card?"

"That's for renovations. Design fees are separate."

"Then just charge it to the card."

"Thanks, Big Client."

Of course I'm good at bargaining!

Some things you must haggle over.

"Get some rest. We have a flight tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

Even after goodnight, I tossed and turned and couldn't sleep.

I kept thinking about everything he said tonight.

Ethan—I don't know how hard it is to like someone who doesn't love you back.

I don't know what made you stick it out for so long.

I don't think I'm good enough to deserve a love like yours.

But Ethan, this time I want to try. If it's you, I'm willing to try to like you.

The honeymoon ended.

After we flew back home, my mom, Margaret, invited us over for dinner.

We came back, unpacked, and rushed right over.

"Mom, why the sudden invite?"

"What's sudden about coming home for dinner? I saw you two flying around and never having a proper meal, so I cooked and left it ready for when you got back."

"Thanks, Mom. You look so beautiful today."

Flattery specialist as ever.

"Like you act like I'm not pretty every day."

"Of course my mom is always pretty."

"You can't shut up about it."

Margaret laughed openly.

"Chris, don't be shy—eat more.

I remember when you were little you loved my cooking. You'd always stay until after dinner when you came to see Sophie."

"Thanks, Mom. After all these years, your cooking still tastes the same."

"Come back more often, alright? I'll cook for you two."

"We will."

Ethan and Margaret exchanged pleasantries while I, starving, didn't take part much.

After dinner I flopped onto the couch to digest.

Margaret scolded loudly, "Sophie!

Stop eating and sleeping all day. You're married—act like it! Go wash the dishes!"

"Ah Mom, I just sat on a plane for hours. I'm exhausted. I'll wash them later~"

"Don't give me that.

I cooked and I don't complain. You eat and you complain. Stop dawdling and wash the dishes."

I tried to act cute with my mom, but Ethan came over to help.

"Mom, I'll wash them. Sophie's tired—let her rest."

"She's not tired; she's lazy.

Ethan, don't spoil her."

"It's fine, Mom. I'll wash them—it's the same whether I do it or she does."

Ethan went to clear the table.

Margaret had no more to say and turned her scolding back to me. "Look at you. Ethan's been so sensible since he was little—always helping with chores. You hang out and learn nothing."

"Ah, Mom—can you stop nagging me in my ear? There's someone else washing the dishes now. Can I have a little peace?"

"You've got the nerve. Ethan just got back and you're already bossing him."

"Oh Mom, it's not like that! I'm not bossing him—he volunteered!"

"He's just being polite, and you just shamelessly believe it."

"It's not his first time here—he's family."

"Even if he's been here before, you've been married how long? What have you done?"

"What can I do? I don't know how to do anything."

"You know you don't know anything! Married and you still don't know how to do anything!"

"If I'm married I have to know everything!"

"You're great at arguing, that's true! Have you thought about learning to cook, clean, and take care of the house? Don't be the same after you move in."

"I'm afraid I'll burn down the kitchen. Clean? I'd just make things worse."

"You, you!"

Ethan came out of the kitchen after washing the dishes and watched me bicker with my mom. He didn’t say anything—just stood there smiling.

My mom didn’t bother arguing with me either. She turned to Ethan and started nagging.

“Ethan, you have to put up with Summer after she marries into your family. That kid’s been spoiled rotten by me and her dad. She doesn’t know how to do half the things—marrying into your family like this… well, thank goodness you were willing to marry her. Otherwise, with how she is, your father and I would be worrying about her forever!”

“Mom, don’t sound so formal. Summer and I grew up together. It’s my luck she decided to marry me.”

“You’re just so kind-hearted…”

Wait.

Since when did marrying me mean he was kind-hearted?

After a day of running around, Ethan was driving me home.

“My mom nags like that all the time. Don’t mind her.”

“How could I mind? I’ve always loved hearing you and your mom bicker. Your house always feels so lively whenever I visit.”

“Then come over more often. You can help distract her a little.”

In my mom’s eyes, Ethan was absolutely the golden child—she was even warmer toward him than toward me. When she found out we were getting married, she bragged about it to everyone within ten miles. If she’d been allowed, she probably would have paraded it through the whole town with a loudspeaker.

If I get to marry Ethan, my mom’s probably happier than I am.

After we got home, I didn’t want to do anything. I washed up and just wanted to crawl into bed and fast-forward straight to sleep. After the lights went out, Ethan leaned close and murmured in my ear, “Good night.”

It was a nightly ritual. His tenderness toward me was even greater than I’d imagined.

31. After returning to work, we didn’t see each other as often. We were both busy with our careers. By the time we got home at night, we were exhausted and just wanted to crash. A whole day might pass without more than a few words between us. That went on for half a month.

Then our company received news of a second collaboration with his company. Because I had been the one handling the design proposals with their Rebecca before, my boss decided to send me again for negotiations.

It wasn’t my first time at their office, but I hadn’t expected to go back as someone’s wife. The receptionist this time was new—a pretty young woman I’d never met before.

I stepped up and said, “Hi, I’m from the design firm. I have an appointment with Rebecca about a project.”

“Rebecca just stepped out. You can sit over there and wait.”

Since I was here anyway, I figured I might as well see what Ethan was up to.

“Is Ethan here?”

“Mr. Parker’s in a meeting.”

I was curious about what Ethan was like at work, so I made some small talk with the receptionist.

“So how is Ethan at work?”

“Oh, Mr. Parker? He’s great—he’s handsome and very capable. But he’s so serious when he’s working that we don’t dare bother him…”

The new receptionist blushed shyly as she smiled, and I felt certain there was a story there. My nosy side was fully engaged.

“Are there a lot of girls who like him around here?”

“Probably. But Mr. Parker doesn’t pay much attention to things outside of work—he’s hard to win over. Why are you asking? Are you…interested in him?”

Hard to win over? I didn’t think so.

“No, just curious.”

“You should avoid being interested. I heard he just got married. I don’t know what kind of woman could catch his eye…”

Well, that woman must be something special.

“Just gossip—purely gossip.”

“If I could see her in person, I’d like to know what kind of girl could get such a talented man. I want a husband that handsome and accomplished too.”

“How do you know which girl won his heart?”

“It has to be the girl who chased him! He’s so serious and reserved at work—he doesn’t seem like the type to actively pursue anyone.”

“He can be a bit of a closed book…”

You all really misunderstand him. He not only pursues girls—he’s strategic enough to make one marry him.

“I should get back to work now.”

When the receptionist returned to her desk, I stopped prying and sat on the sofa. I opened Ethan’s chat and saw my message from half an hour ago saying I’d be coming over for the meeting. He hadn’t replied yet—I guessed the meeting wasn’t over. I grew bored and nibbled on some tea cakes on the table.

Ten minutes later Ethan finally came out of the conference room. When he saw me, he rushed over. “You came? You didn’t tell me.”

I held up my phone. “I sent you a message forty minutes ago—you didn’t see it in time. I came by to meet Rebecca about the project, but she stepped out… figured since I’m here, I’d swing by and see you.”

The receptionist glanced toward us, startled. “You two—?”

Before I could answer, Ethan said, “She’s my wife. Do you know her?”

The receptionist was speechless. I couldn’t help laughing. “We were just chatting.”

“Since Rebecca’s out, why don’t you wait in my office?”

He led me to his office. As soon as we sat down he asked, “You were laughing earlier—what were you two talking about?”

“How to win you over.”

I wanted to tease the receptionist.

“Can you be serious?”

“You’re so popular around the office, Ethan.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“The little girl told me a lot of the girls here like you!”

“I’m married. You know that.”

“I know, but the other girls don’t necessarily.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“With what?”

I dug a pink hair tie from my bag and slipped it onto his wrist.

“What’s that for?”

“Hair-tie logic.”

He looked baffled. I explained, “If a guy wears a girl’s hair tie on his wrist, other girls know he’s taken. It stops them from getting any ideas.”

“Even if I don’t totally get it… does it have to be pink?”

“It’s the only one in my bag.”

If it helps you, quit being picky.

We sat in his office a while longer until Rebecca messaged that she was back. “Rebecca says she’s back—I’m going over to meet her now.”

“Come back and I’ll take you out to dinner.”

“Okay.”

After finishing the negotiation about the second phase, Rebecca chatted with me for a moment. “I can’t believe you actually married Ethan. No wonder he kept asking me to look at your designs back then. He had another motive.”

Rebecca was teasing me—Ethan’s efforts had been subtle and I felt a little embarrassed. “He never told me…”

“He really liked you. He came by my office a dozen times just to see your designs. Your work was excellent, so we wanted to continue the collaboration.”

“He never told me any of that…”

“He’d only been at the company a little while then, and things were hectic. He didn’t like bothering people, but he came to see me the most—just to check on you. Young people have complicated hearts—I knew it.”

So that’s why he seemed to linger around me all the time. I thought he wasn’t busy like the rest of them—but he’d been pouring all his attention into me.

32. After finishing the collaboration with Ethan’s company, my boss gave me a new assignment: a week-long business trip to work with a media company in another city. Ethan packed my suitcase for me and insisted I take care of myself. He still treated me like a kid—do I need babysitting at my age?

I didn’t expect the person handling the project over there to be my ex, Luke. The sight of him made me want to run. My leftover professionalism made me stay.

“Luke.”

“Long time, Sophie. Didn’t expect to meet you here. Maybe fate isn’t done with us.”

“Let’s keep this professional.”

“You’re so cold.”

“I want to get this project done, not exchange pleasantries.”

“You’re always so blunt—no mercy.”

“Cut the small talk. Are we doing the deal or not?”

“We are. We can talk about anything.”

I couldn’t understand how I’d ever been with him. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and just got through the meetings, using every last bit of professional composure. Otherwise, I can’t promise I wouldn’t do something rash.

For six days I bickered and negotiated with my ex. We settled the proposal enough to leave—no need to see him anymore.

“You’ve been working hard keeping an eye on the project,” Luke said on the last night. “Let me take you out for a meal to thank you.”

“No thanks. I just want to finalize things and go home.”

“We used to be together—don’t be so heartless.”

“Stop. Keep your distance. I’m a married woman now.”

“A married woman? You married? When? Who?”

“Why do you care? It’s not you.”

“If it were me, I might not even say yes. Just have dinner with me—think of it as the client treating the vendor. I won’t do anything to you.”

Before I could refuse, he whisked me out to a hotpot place. He told me to order whatever I wanted, so I pulled out all the stops and ordered the priciest items. He’s paying—might as well get back everything I suffered for these days.

When the food started arriving, Ethan messaged asking where I was, so I sent him the location of the hotpot restaurant.

Luke tried to make conversation. “Tell me about your husband. How did you guys meet?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Just making small talk. What does he look like? Am I more handsome?”

“Since when do you think you’re so good-looking? Any random guy on the street looks better than you.”

“You’re shallow. So what’s he like? More lovable than me?”

“He’s completely different from you. Mind your own hotpot—can’t even shut your mouth.”

“Why are you so mean to me? Do you still have feelings for me?”

He grabbed my hand as he said it.

His sudden movement startled me and I scrambled to pull away.

But he only gripped tighter.

"Zhou Qi!

I advise you to show some respect!

We’re already broken up. Don’t beg and cling to me!"

"I'm not clinging to her!"

He said it, but his hand didn’t let go.

His roguish behavior made my blood boil.

I couldn't wrench free… In the tug, a familiar voice cut through, "Let go of her!"

It was Ethan!

How did he get here?

Zhou Qi looked at Ethan, said nothing, and—almost reflexively—released my hand. A smug look curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, the current boyfriend, huh!

I'm her ex, Zhou Qi.

What a coincidence!

Wanna sit and eat together?"

Ethan ignored him and pulled me to leave.

Seeing that, Zhou Qi protested, "Isn't it rude to take her away in front of me! I still have things to discuss with Sophie!"

"I have nothing to discuss with you!"

I snapped.

"Aw, come on. Leaving me here to eat hotpot alone—how sad!"

"This is between Sophie and me. It has nothing to do with you!"

Ethan finished and led me away without even glancing back at Zhou Qi.

Only after we reached his hotel room did Ethan finally loosen his hand.

"That guy was your ex?" he asked.

"Yes."

I could tell Ethan was upset; my voice came out small.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to see him?"

"This time the company assigned me to a joint project with their firm. I didn't expect to run into him…"

"So you just stayed with him for six days?"

"It was all work…"

"Having dinner together was work? Him holding your hand was work?"

"I… didn't expect he'd act like that…"

"Didn't expect?"

Ethan sounded almost laughably angry. He fell silent for a long moment. "Sophie! Do you realize you're married to me?"

"I do, but—"

"But you still chose to go out alone with another man? And that man is your ex?"

"It's not what you think…"

"Not what I think? I planned to finish my work and come pick you up. I walked in and saw him holding your hand! You tell me it's not what I think—then what is it? I know you don't love me… but Sophie… I at least thought you respected me. But today… where does that leave me? I can tolerate your occasional temper, but today… Sophie, I'm not as magnanimous as you think…"

When he said that, I had no immediate reply.

Is that how he truly saw me?

Was I really that small to him?

"I know you won't hear any explanation right now, but Ethan… I'm not what you think! I have my own standards. Since I agreed to marry you, I never intended to be with anyone else!"

"Do you believe that yourself?"

"Why wouldn't I? Don't let anger turn you into someone who doubts me without cause!"

"Right, it's me doubting! I'm always the one at fault, and you're never wrong!" He said it like he’d broken, giving up. He didn't care about my feelings at all.

Then he left the room, leaving me standing there… I couldn't believe things had come to this. It was the first time he walked away from me.

And I didn't follow. I thought we both needed to cool off… I don't know how long I sat in the room with that hollow feeling.

Those past few days I'd been up late reworking the plan, barely sleeping. I must have dozed on the sofa.

I don't know how long I slept, but someone covered me with something, jolting my uneasy rest.

I cracked my eyes open. Ethan had covered me with a small quilt—he must have been worried I'd get cold on the sofa.

"You're back?"

I asked.

"What else could I do? You were so stubborn, you wouldn't come find me."

"I thought you were too mad to talk to me…"

"You said before that even if we argued, we'd clear things up first."

"I can explain, but you have to listen! You were so angry, questioning me for so long—I never got the chance to explain…" I protested, getting more hurt as I spoke. I hadn't told him that the collaborator was my ex because I didn't think it mattered after we'd broken up. Saying it might have made it seem like something would happen. I didn't expect Zhou Qi to suddenly pester me, or for Ethan to see it… My thoughts were a mess, and his anger—his wounded look—made tears sting my eyes.

This was crazy.

"Okay, okay—I get it. I believe you. Whatever you say, I believe. Don't cry—I hate it when you cry…" He hurried to soothe me, awkward even when trying to touch my face. The more he fumbled, the more I wanted to cry. Like the floodgates opened once he knew how hurt I was. I'm not usually this fragile, but the tears would not stop.

"Can you… not get angry so quickly? I'm scared when you are. When you get mad I feel like crying…"

"I know I was wrong. I'll listen to you first from now on. I won't snap at you for no reason."

"Then don't abandon me like you did. When I'm here alone, I'm afraid."

I could actually be fine alone, but him storming off and leaving me felt like being abandoned. "I won't anymore."

He bent down and kissed my forehead—a gentle, intimate comfort. Then he rubbed his cheek against mine, like fawning over a kitten.

I was entranced by the sudden closeness. As he was about to rise, I hooked my hand around him and pulled him back.

It was a possessive, breath-stealing kind of heat. I covered his lips with mine.

Reverent and hungry, the kiss dragged me deeper.

He looked at me, stunned.

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"I do. And I'm fully aware."

I drank in the kiss, wanting more. He seemed unable to resist and pushed me away.

"I said I won't force you into anything you don't want. But if it's you who initiates… Sophie… I…"

"I know. I'm willing."

I am willing.

Words I hadn't said at our wedding—maybe it wasn't too late.

Ethan stared at me, unbelieving. "Do you know what you're saying? Do you know what this will lead to? Sophie… don't joke with me—"

"I'm not joking."

"If you keep doing this… I might not be able to stop myself…"

I kissed him again, looked at him with all the feeling in me. After a long moment my lips traced his ear and I whispered, "I said I'm willing."

He could no longer hold back. He scooped me up onto the bed, peeled my clothes away with fevered urgency, kissing like desperate tides crashing on rocks. Tonight, we belonged only to each other.

Afterwards, Ethan held me. I don't know what time it was; the sky had only begun to lighten.

At last he spoke. "Tonight… can you tell me the little story? About you and him."

"Mm?"

"About you and him." He still cared. I understood.

"Actually, what happened between us wasn't as complicated as you think… Simply put, we were young and foolish. We didn't have much contact. We confirmed the relationship and before long… we broke up."

"Why did you break up?"

"Our values clashed in too many ways."

"Like?"

"I can't remember specifics. It was just hard to communicate sometimes."

"If it was like that, why did you want to be with him in the first place?"

"I didn't think that far then. After we got together, I realized how incompatible we were."

"How did you meet?"

"Embarrassingly—we kind of… fell into an online romance."

"?"

"It was a local social app. He started talking to me, we chatted a lot… then he asked if we could meet."

"And you went?"

"Yeah. It turned out we went to the same school."

"And then?"

"He asked if I would be his girlfriend…"

"You agreed?"

"I'd never really dated before. In college, my friends started pairing off. I felt like maybe I should try…"

"So you said yes."

"If I thought I clicked, sure. But once we were actually together, problems surfaced. Basically, we weren't right for each other."

"Did he—"

"No!" I cut him off before he could finish. "How did you know what I was going to ask?"

"You know what I would ask."

"Whatever you wanted to ask, the answer is no."

"Really? He didn't seem like a straight-laced guy."

"I don't know how he ended up like that. At the time, no. From confirmation to breakup it was only about a week."

"He accepted it?"

"If he hadn't, I wouldn't have put up with him!"

"How did you break up with him?"

"Flat out. I didn't like him. I didn't want to waste his time."

"He didn't pester you?"

"At first he did. I avoided him and eventually he gave up."

"Then why wasn't it on your social posts? You love sharing life. I remember my mom told me you had a boyfriend once and I frantically scrolled your posts looking for any sign of him—half terrified, half hopeful…"

"I honestly didn't care much for him. I had no urge to share him. I only discovered we were together because my mom found it on my phone… It was awkward. After that relationship I didn't want to follow the crowd into dating."

"With all your convictions, why did you agree to marry me?"

"Actually… I trusted you. We knew each other as kids, our families stayed close. We were familiar with each other's background. I figured if I hadn't met someone I liked, marrying you wasn't a bad idea. The months we spent together before were comfortable, so marrying you wouldn't be a disaster."

"Not a disaster, huh. So you married me for that reason." Ethan gave a self-deprecating laugh at the idea.

"At least I didn't lose. Now I get the best of both—suitability and affection. I think marrying you was the right choice."

"Do you really mean that?"

"If I didn't mean it, would I have said yes?"

Would you really be willing to give yourself to me completely?

If it weren’t love, Ethan, I definitely wouldn’t be willing.

“When did you start being willing?”

“Actually… I should’ve been willing a long time ago… I just wasn’t sure about my own heart… But the moment you left me here and then came back for me, I think that’s when I could really be certain.”

“Certain about what?”

“Certain that I like you too!”

Before you, I didn’t even understand what love was. But thank you, Ethan. Thank you for going through so much to teach me what love is.

35.

A month later, Ethan asked when I was free—said he wanted to take me somewhere.

We worked out our schedules and, to my surprise, he brought me to a bridal shop.

“Why bring me here?”

“I’ve been wanting to find time to have our wedding photos retaken.”

“We’ve been married so long… I don’t really care about the ceremony stuff…”

“This is different.

The ceremonies that should be had, I still want to give you.”

Even though I said I didn’t care, looking at these delicate, subtly glittering gowns, I couldn’t help but get lost in this dreamlike paradise.

High-end hand embroidery paired with pure white lace, silver shimmer catching soft light—layered patterns that swayed across the skirt like a starry sky. I couldn’t help but be enchanted…

We took a while choosing and getting me into makeup; I kept picturing beautiful moments with him.

The photographer led us to a sea of little blooms.

We each took our shots.

“Bride, lie down here first, and then the groom will lean in and kiss the beautiful bride.”

I obeyed and lay down in the flowers.

But wearing that off-shoulder gown, my back kept feeling a little pinched.

Ethan saw me fidget and took off his suit jacket to drape over my shoulders, then used his hand as a pillow and lay down beside me.

He seemed a little shy and hesitated to kiss me, even though we were that close. “Ethan, what are you nervous about?”

I watched his Adam’s apple move; his gaze traveled from my eyes down to my lips but he still didn’t take another step.

“I’m not nervous.”

The words sounded weak compared to how he acted.

“It’s not like it’s our first time kissing.

Do I always have to make the first move?”

I teased him.

“I just… can’t quite believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“Believe that you’re really right here… Before, when you were so far away, I always thought about when I could get closer to you.

Now you’re in front of me, and I suddenly don’t dare believe it.”

You’ve liked me for so long—thank you for your patience!

From now on, I’ll like you even more.

“Ethan, I’ll always be by your side.”

He nodded. “I believe you.”

He smiled with his eyes and kissed me… The photographer seized the moment and snapped several photos of us kissing.

Later the photographer had me lean against a tree while Ethan wrapped his arm around my waist.

I looped an arm around his neck, all smiles, ready to tease him.

“Don’t mess around.”

We’ve been married so long—how is he still this shy?

Fine, I won’t tease him. I lowered my hand obediently.

Unexpectedly, he moved in instead.

He pulled me close, wrapped his arm around my waist, and kissed me—long and slow. His sudden boldness startled me. I’d always thought he was shy; a little kiss used to make him blush. I thought he was a little lamb… “What… are you doing… there are so many people…”

Of all people, the usually thick-skinned me got embarrassed by him…

“You learned it from me.”

“When did I… when did I ever kiss you like this in public…”

“Where did you learn it?”

“From TV.”

All those kissing styles in dramas look different when you actually try them… He hadn’t expected that answer and chuckled.

“Why are you always so entertaining?”

I didn’t get what was funny.

What’s so laughable about picking up kissing techniques from TV… I ignored him.

He stopped laughing and looked at me seriously, then leaned close to my ear, his lips brushing my cheek—just like that night when I whispered to him—and softly said:

“I love you.”

That unexpected confession made everything else fall away.

I pressed close to his ear and replied quietly, “Me too.”

In the epilogue, I noticed Ethan’s phone kept lighting up and got curious.

I unlocked it. The lock screen was a photo of a girl’s silhouette with the side of her face in sunlight—beautiful. It was the first picture he ever took of me.

A touch of Avignon romance.

The notification preview looked urgent; after hesitating I opened the phone.

He’s never secretive with me; both our fingerprints are on each other’s phones.

To my surprise, it opened to an unpublished draft—the kind of edited post he hadn’t released.

It described little things about my everyday life.

I couldn’t help myself and went to view more. Did he use his microblog like a journal?

I flipped through and it was all about me!

[ I love you a lot, but pink lace sheets are a hard no for me… ]

[ Ate a bunch of your favorite foods with you today. I can’t handle spicy, so I couldn’t eat with you—still, seeing you enjoy it was pretty great. ]
[ Turns out you like Cantonese songs.

You fell asleep leaning on my shoulder and slept so soundly.

But leaning so long made my shoulder a little sore… ]
[ Please don’t wear a nightdress with spaghetti straps after you brush your teeth next time.

I can’t control myself… okay, I really can’t control myself… and I can’t do anything to you… hugging you to sleep might help… ]
[ You leaning on the observation deck looked so charming—your silhouette in the sunset was a dramatic finishing touch. I couldn’t help but press the shutter… ]
[ Most of the time I can control myself, but when you make the first move I really can’t… I should’ve known not to let you drink so much… That hazy, lustful look you gave me—probably unforgettable for life. It’s torture… the moment you kissed me I almost lost all reason… but then you apologized.

You don’t have to apologize.

This is your right as my wife.

And I gladly accept it!

But next time, I’m not sure I’ll be able to withstand such a test… ]
[ Didn’t see you for six whole days.

Felt like I had no energy each day… Strangely, we used to be apart that long and I was fine.

Now that we’re married, I’m clingier… I miss you so much! ]
[ I know you don’t like fighting. I must’ve made you mad again.

I’ll try to control my temper next time; trusting you is what matters most. ]
[ The girl I’ve liked for many years is married to me now—my constant nags have finally become years and years by my side. ]

He’d recorded every little thing about our days here. I was engrossed when Ethan came out after freshening up.

I was so absorbed I didn’t notice him sitting beside me. “What are you looking at?”

His voice made me jump. How does he always show up suddenly?

“Your diary!

You wrote so much!

I didn’t expect this!”

He was a little embarrassed as he took the phone from my hands and put it away.

“What’s so interesting about it?”

He said that, then wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.

“I think it’s wonderful!

But… what do you mean you’ve liked me for many years?

Didn’t you say you fell in love at first sight with me a year ago?”

“Just messing with you.”

I didn’t get it and looked up at him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“You asked if it was love at first sight, and I said yes.”

“But wasn’t it you who said it was love at first sight?”

“That wasn’t the first time we met.”

“That’s true.

So if not love at first sight, then what was it?”

“I liked you since we were kids!

You were just slow to notice.

You thought I liked following you around.

You never wondered why I liked to be near you.”

“How old were we as kids? Thinking that already!”

“That’s why I never dared be sure.

How could someone so small know what liking really is?

But it seems like that’s just how it was.

Seeing you again felt the same.

Just liked you—no reason needed.

Liked you as a child, liked you grown up.

The ways I liked you changed, but it was always liking.”

“That much?”

“Very much.”

All that earnest confession made me a little shy.

But I still asked, “If you liked me, why mess with me?”

“Because I wasn’t even sure myself, so I didn’t tell you right away.

Whether it was love at first sight or something else, the fact I like you is indisputable.”

“When did you become certain?”

Ethan didn’t answer immediately. He lowered his head and leaned close to my ear.

“Every moment I like you is a moment I’m certain.”

Then he kissed me.

Passionate and sure.

Being curled up against him always brings a strange sense of safety.

Ethan, I want to tell you—though I haven’t liked you as long as you’ve liked me,

from now on, there’s no question that I love you too!