Getting married is one thing, but getting out of the wedding dress? Even harder. I didn't realize this when my friends and sister helped me put on the dress, but just taking this thing off was enough to drain a person completely. Never am I ever going to wear a wedding dress again—that's for sure.
It took me a while to take everything off and change into my nightdress. After finally freshening up, I looked at the mirror to see my reflection.
It was me, but it felt different.
Was it the mirror, the place, or something else entirely? I couldn't tell. I sighed as I thought about what to do next.
Ron always made it very clear that he didn't want to marry me. So the matter of consummation was absolutely impossible, especially since our marriage was supposed to last for two years only.
But his brother… he made it very clear that this marriage was a real marriage, at least for him.
After contemplating a bit, I decided to just let fate take its course.
At first, I thought maybe I should be casual. Another look in the mirror, and I decided to put in a little effort—it was, after all, our wedding night. A bit of makeup should be normal. I kept it as natural as possible: light-colored lipstick, eyeliner, blush—good enough.
Ponytail or hair down? Hair down. That's enough, I told myself, so I wouldn't forget what this wedding was about. One last deep breath, and I opened the door.
There he was, sitting at the edge of the bed, just how I had left him. Had he been sitting here for the past two hours I spent in the washroom, like a statue? Though he did look like a statue—a well-sculpted one. I stopped myself as soon as I realized I was grinning.
He looked up at me, and I think I noticed a small gulp?
"I'm done. You should go freshen up now."
Just a small nod and "hmm." Not much of a talker.
I decided to look around the room. It was very neutral-colored, and it suited his personality well. There was not much around: a couch beside the bed, a small table, a closet… a walk-in closet.
I knew he was rich, but this was something totally different. Before I could explore more, I heard the door open.
2 hours vs. 20 minutes.
That's right, he took just 20 minutes to get ready, and all I got to do was take a look around the room. I haven't even visited the balcony or the closet yet.
And there he was in his bathrobe, water dripping from his hair. Did he not dry his hair on purpose?
I don't know about him, but I gulped for sure when I saw him.
Thinking about it now, I didn't really lose out in this marriage. He was, after all, quite a looker.
"So...", we both started saying at the same time.
"You go first," I say, giving myself more time to think about what to say.
"Ladies first," he says, making a small 'go ahead' gesture.
"I was saying, let's go to sleep now?" I said in a questioning tone, and this time I'm sure he gulped and raised an eyebrow a bit.
Awkward.
"After all, we have a long day ahead tomorrow," I say as I make my way towards the bed.
"You take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," he said, looking down.
The couch?
I looked at his king-sized bed—five of me could fit comfortably. Then at the small couch beside it. And finally at him, tall and bulky. Half his body would hang off that couch.
"Or...", I continue after a pause, trying not to be suggestive, "we could share this huge bed."
He looked at me as if I had just asked him to promise himself to me. Not gonna lie, the thought was tempting.
Focus.
Seeing how unsure he looked, I continued, "The couch is too small for your size. Relax, I have a good sleeping posture, and I don't bite," I said jokingly, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Not even a chuckle.
Clearing my throat, I continue, "Look, if you really feel uncomfortable sharing a bed with me, I'll take the couch, you take the bed."
"No, no, I can't let you do that."
"Look, Adrian, getting married was tiring, and I'm exhausted. We have lots to do tomorrow, so I really need to sleep right now. If I let a man of your size sleep on that couch while I take this huge bed, I won't feel good. So, just decide: we both sleep in the bed, or I take the couch?"
He scratched his head, like I just asked him to solve a tough equation.
"Alright then. Let's share the bed. Don't worry, I will absolutely not touch you or make you uncomfortable."
At this, I chuckle a little. Who's the one that should really be worried?
Initially, I was a little worried that I might be too nervous to sleep. But exhaustion of the day soon took over, and I was out the moment I hit the bed.
Contrary to what I thought, I slept quite well. The new place did not affect my sleep. Proud of it, I slowly opened my eyes to the warm sun. I squeezed the body pillow, admiring how comfy it was, when it suddenly hit me.
I didn't take any extra pillows to sleep.
I had been hugging… him. One of my legs was draped over him. He was lying exactly as he had when we went to bed, completely oblivious, but for me… the other side of the bed was empty. My hands and feet froze as I slowly moved them away, praying he wouldn't notice.
Unfortunately, my prayers went unanswered. His eyes fluttered open while my leg and hand were still hovering over him.
So embarrassing. It was at this moment, I wouldn't mind the ground swallowing me.
He slowly turned to me and raised his eyebrow. "Good posture? You sure?" Then he laughed. Like not a smirk, not a chuckle, a full laugh.
I could feel the embarrassment in my bones. I immediately turned to the other side, wrapping the blanket all over me.
"It's a new place. I'm not used to this bed," I said, whatever came to mind first—any excuse. Would he even buy this?
Another laugh. Yep, he didn't buy it.
"Yeah, sure," he said sarcastically. I felt him getting off the bed. I was so embarrassed that I decided I would only come out after he left. Waiting, I heard his footsteps coming closer to me.
He leaned over me on his knees and said, "I'll make sure to keep extra pillows for you." A pause. Then he moved closer and whispered, "Of course, you can use me as a pillow as well, if it felt that good last night."
Another laugh, then he left.
Oh, god, what is this guy saying?
His words were so suggestive. Even though I was under the blanket, I could literally imagine his face.
Where is that serious, cold senior that I knew? Who is this flirt?
When I was completely sure he was gone, I took a small peek from my blanket. Married life is going to be tough, I thought. A different kind of tough than I had expected, but still tough. I sighed at the thought.