Summary: Best friends get married for the wrong reasons.
Genre: Romantic comedy
It was hilarious how we finally managed to bridge the gap that had been there ever since the start of our hasty and ill-thought-out marriage.
In hindsight, it was probably not a very good idea to decide on matrimony just to share a rent on a house, but it was impossible otherwise for a guy and a girl to do that without being stoned to death (exaggeration). We were both a little bit stupid, neither wanting to concede and both having had eyes on the same house ever since we first started working at the same company near where the house was located. But we did finally agree on the hare-brained scheme of getting married.
Yeah, I'm rolling my eyes too, remembering those innocent naive days of our youth.
Both of us were really ignorant about romance, not having been exposed to flirtations as we were both huge nerds that attracted no attention whatsoever. We had been best friends for a long time and never felt the need to seek other people for friendship. We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, most of them in the same class. We got into the same university and finally got offered jobs at the same company. It would have been perfect if we were placed in the same department, but we had different interests, so he's in management and I'm in design.
As much planning as we did, we didn’t think as far as the wedding night. So, it was kind of a shock to find ourselves in the same room after a lot of winks and suggestive whistles from relatives and friends alike. I still remember that stupid look on his face which, I guess, was mirrored on mine.
We blinked at each other, not knowing how to react to this unforeseen situation. It was actually quite understandable why we forgot about this aspect of marriage.
You see, we had already went through the marriage courses and got the certificate back when we were in college, so it was only a matter of informing our family and getting the deed done. The wedding I mean. It was so easy and smooth that we had no time to prepare for the aftermath.
At first, our families were shocked because as long as we’ve been friends, we’d never given any signs to any kind of romantic feelings between us. They wanted to wait to hold the wedding, but we alluded that we needed to hurry. Yeah, it came to that point.
So there we were, standing awkwardly, nothing like our usual selves.
“Um, now what?” he asked with his confused scrunched up face.
I shrugged and looked at the bed pointedly.
He sputtered and turned bright red.
“I don’t mean that!” I whisper shouted, face crimson. “I meant we need to decide who’s gonna sleep in the bed.”
He visibly looked relieved. “Oh, that. Let’s see... I’m taller, I’m your husband, and this is your parents' house. Meaning... I’m your guest.” He looked at me expectantly.
“So? What’s your point?” I questioned.
“The bed’s mine, dear.” The last word edged with heavy sarcasm.
“WHAT?!” I burst out loudly, forgetting for a second that there were probably people outside discussing about babies and reproduction stuff. “No! We have to decide this fair and square. And didn’t we agree that you can’t throw out ‘I’m the husband, obey me’ crap when we’re married?”
“Okay, fine. What do you suggest?”
“How about ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’?”
He grimaced. He always loses this game with me. “Sure. Fine. Whatever.”
And that was how I won our first ever argument in our marriage. I got the bed.
So, back to the story of how we took a first step towards a real marriage.
It was Friday night several weeks into our marriage and we both have our day off the following day, so we decided to stay up late watching movies.
It’s funny, but as close as we were as friends and as long as we’d known each other, we had never watched a movie together, be it on television or on the big screen. It made sense considering that we both came from the same backwater state and studied there all throughout our diplomas and degrees where there is no movie cinema.
So there we were, almost midnight, half an hour into our arguments on what to watch. He got this new movie from his colleague at work that day. He said it was a new movie that just came out and his friend had lent it to him, saying it was good. Me, being me, stalwartly refused to watch it on the grounds that we didn’t know what it was about (and a little bit of it was just to be contrary).
“What if it’s porn?” I asked bluntly.
“Of course it’s not porn,” he replied and simultaneously started to check the DVD cover as if to look for signs of pornographic leaning in the design. But it was his friend’s copy that he burned himself and there was no design on the cover, just blank.
“Didn’t you ask him what it was about? Or even what it's called?” I exasperatedly asked.
“He was in a hurry and he always gives me great movies before. I trust him.” He defended.
“Well, I don’t want to watch it. I want to watch this one.” I pointed at the DVD with cartoons on the cover.
“Well, I don’t want to watch that one. I want to watch this one.”
“Ugh, this is hopeless! Let’s just solve this with-” before I could finish, he cut in with, “a coin toss. The last time we did ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’, you won. So let’s try another way.”
“Fine.”
And that was how we ended up watching the movie that changed the course of our marriage. What we didn’t know was that it was a horror movie. And what we also didn’t know was that it wasn’t just him or just me who hated horror movies.
Both of us did.
By the time the credits rolled, we were both shaky with fear and still jumpy. We didn’t even realize that we were clinging to each other, just whimpering. It was already two in the morning and we both seemed stuck on the couch, neither willing to move to turn off the DVD player and the television.
I was the first one who spoke, “Your friend’s a jerk.”
Pause.
Then, “Yeah.”
“Leave the TV on?”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Then we both started, “Let’s just—”
Sheepishly smiling at each other, “—sleep on the couch.”
And that was that.
I never thought it would be a horror movie that would finally bring us together, but it worked and now we’re married for real. And yeah, it’s the blush-worthy kind of real.