Waking Up With You by Sofie Hartwell

shrugs.
    We cruise towards Mulholland Drive. There are good stretches of narrow twists and hairpin turns that are tricky to drive in, but we make it to the Hollywood Bowl overlook. I park and we both admire the panoramic view. We get out of the car to gaze at the sight. The twinkling city lights down below are magnificent. Classical music from the concert at the bowl wafts through, and the effect is just stunning. We forget about the food and just silently enjoy everything.
    “How do I not know about this place?” Jake whispers, seemingly in a trance.
    I come closer to Jake and my hand reaches for his. I then slowly lean my head on his shoulder. “Are you cold?” he asks in a raspy voice. I nod and he encircles me in his arms. I relax into his warm embrace. I look into his darkened eyes and his expression is indecipherable. His jaw is clenched, and he doesn’t meet my long, fixed stare.
    He softly touches his lips to my forehead. He then kisses my eyes, my nose, my cheek, and jaw. I am quivering inside when his mouth finally descends to meet mine. His kiss starts out tentatively, almost caressingly, until I dare to bite his lower lip lightly. For a second, he seems shocked, and then the kiss suddenly turns into one of reckless abandon. His firm mouth demands a response and I’m shocked at how eagerly I reciprocate. My heart is beating fast and my knees are trembling. I want it to go on and on. But he suddenly stops and tears away, leaving me weak and breathless.
    “Is this where you go to make out with your boyfriends?” he spits out derisively. I take a move backward. Why is he furious? Why would he even think that? I’ve been here many times before, but only with friends. I say nothing, unable to understand the sudden change in his mood.
    He puts his hands to his temple and then flings them down in disgust. He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then closes it once again. He glares at me, seemingly revolted.
    I want him to say something. “Jake, what’s going on? Why are you being weird?” I ask, in an effort to understand what is going on.
    “Do you get a kick out of playing around with me, Emma?” His expression is once again unfathomable.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My friends and I used to come up here all the time. I thought you’d like the view. And don’t flatter yourself, Jake. I didn’t intend to …you know…start anything,” I finish lamely.
    He rakes his hand through his hair and looks apologetically at me. “I’m sorry, Em. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He sighs deeply. “I think we underestimated how challenging our relationship would be. Maybe we should be setting some rules so that…” he doesn’t continue. But I know what he leaves unsaid. So that I won’t misunderstand and imagine that our marriage is for real. Don’t worry, Jake Morgan, I know I’m not your type.
    I realize it will be better to get over the awkwardness and just be on friendly terms with him. It was a momentary weakness that led to that kiss. I don’t know why I reacted that way, why I wanted much more than a virtuous kiss on my forehead. I don’t know why I pushed myself on him that way. Then I realize that he probably found my response distasteful. I want to cover my face with my hands, but I hold on to my last shred of dignity. So I ask in a calm voice, “What rules do you have in mind?”
    “I don’t know, Em. I’m sorry we never had this discussion before we got married. How could I have been so stupid?”
    I flinch away from his words.
    “I run a successful business and I know damn well the key is planning and preparation. But I go into this thing like a fool without even thinking of the potential risks,” he continues.
    Like a fool. Risk. I feel him twisting a knife inside of me as he utters each word. “Don’t worry about it. We can always start all over.’ I try very hard not to show any emotion. Be cool, Emma. “I think the first rule is not to tell