Marriage For One

Rose: I’ll give your money back to you as soon as I see you.

Sighing, I put down my fork and knife and picked up my phone.

Jack: You stayed quiet about that for long enough. It’s been an hour. You’re still on that?

Rose: It was lunch time. You’re not paying me for a cup of coffee. Also, today’s customer count is a total of 68. All the sandwiches are gone. Yay!

Jack: I’m not gonna keep talking about money with you. Congratulations on the new customers. You’re counting them?

Rose: Of course I’m counting them. Who wouldn’t? And what about what other people think about the money? Sally asked a ton of questions about you after you left. Whose husband would pay for coffee at his wife’s coffee shop?

It was little things like this that were slowly cracking my resolve against her. No one else would count their customers. No one else would smile as big and beautiful as she did when they saw me, simply because I showed up. No one else would work their ass off every day and night and still find a way to bust my balls. No one else would dare to slam the door in my face, but she did all of those things, and because of that—because of her—I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to keep up my part of the charade.

Jack: And I should care about Sally because…? Your husband pays for his coffee because he wants his wife to succeed.

Rose: I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know what to say to you sometimes.

I smiled at my phone.

Jack: See, we’re doing just fine as a fake married couple. That sounded a lot like what a wife would say to her husband. Also, you didn’t get jumpy when I put my hands on you this time. I’d call that progress.

Rose: Yeah, because you came at me like a turtle.

I was drinking water when her text came in, and reading it started a coughing fit. It lasted long enough that Cynthia walked in to see if everything was all right. I sent her away and picked my phone back up.

Jack: I’ll try to work on it.

Rose: There should be a middle ground, I think, but it was a good start. Definitely closer to the type of couple I’d want to be if I were really married.

Jack: Right. Hopefully I didn’t embarrass you too much.

Rose: No, it was fine. They all thought it was very romantic. Everyone loves a good forehead kiss.

Jack: I’m guessing you don’t.

I checked the time. I had another half an hour before I needed to head to the meeting room and get ready, and my lunch was still not done, not to mention I still had emails I needed to get back to. I didn’t have time to text anyone, let alone get into a texting marathon, but when it was Rose on the other end of those messages, I couldn’t seem to help myself.

Rose: I mean, there is nothing wrong with it, I guess. It’s just a little weird sometimes. Why not kiss me on the lips instead? With the right guy, even a simple cheek kiss can make things happen, or a temple kiss, or a neck one, or one on the skin just below your ear. I just don’t get the significance.

Jack: Make things like what happen?

It took her longer to respond.

Rose: Things.

Jack: I see.

Rose: That was not me saying I’d prefer you to kiss me on the lips instead of the forehead. The next time, I mean, when that kind of thing is necessary to do again.

Jack: I can try if you’d like to see how it’d work out.

Rose: I mean, it’s your preference. You should do whatever feels right.

Her lips then—next time it would be her lips I would taste.

Rose: I just don’t want you to think I was fishing for a kiss or something like that.

Jack: Is there a reason we’re still texting and not talking on the phone instead? This is not efficient.

Rose: Like I said, I don’t know what to say to you sometimes.

Jack: I think you’re doing just fine considering the number of texts you’ve sent in the last five minutes. There is something I forgot to tell you when I was there.

Lately everything had started to slip my mind when she was close to me.

Jack: There is a charity event we need to attend this weekend. It’s this Saturday. Do you think you can make it?

Rose: That was our deal. You held up your end, I’ll do the same.

I thought that would be the end of our impromptu text conversation, but more kept coming.

Rose: So what are you doing?

Jack: Eating lunch. I have a meeting in half an hour.

Rose: You’re out at lunch?

Jack: In my office.