After marrying my childhood friend, we treated each other with polite respect. He was a man of few words, and I was cold. We hadn't even consummated our marriage yet. What I didn't know was that my childhood friend could hear my thoughts. In the bedroom, I looked at him, freshly showered, with a blank expression. But inside, I was thinking: [Will I faint if we "make pancakes" together?] 1 [It would definitely feel amazing. How did that book Peach showed me describe it... something about losing focus.] [I think it was even "pan-fried with water."] Caleb slipped and almost fell. I stepped forward to steady him: "Are you okay?" [Why doesn't the towel fall off? Why wrap it so tight? One look won't kill me.] [He's got great muscles, and long fingers too.] "I'm fine." Caleb spoke quickly, as if urgently trying to stop something. He tugged at his towel: "Sorry, I couldn't find my bathrobe, only this towel..." [Of course you couldn't find it.] [I threw it away.] [It should be getting shredded at the dump right about now.] [Tomorrow, I'm tossing the towel too.] I let go and said calmly: "Be careful next time." "...Okay." 2 Caleb changed into pajamas and got into bed. I flipped through my book, my peripheral vision drifting towards him. He was wearing dark pajamas, long sleeves and pants. [Tank tops are better, easier to cop a feel. Pity I only dare to touch a little, afraid he'll wake up.] [Sigh, I really want to drug him with sleeping pills.] [Then I could do whatever I want.] I stared blankly at the words on the page. Just as he sat on the bed, Caleb lifted the covers and got out again. I was puzzled: "Aren't you sleeping?" "Haven't been sleeping well lately. Going to take a sleeping pill." I didn't think much of it and continued reading. When Caleb returned, he had changed clothes. He was wearing that tank top. He explained: "Too hot." I replied indifferently: "Mmh." Caleb lay down. Maybe it really was too hot; the blanket only covered his navel. One arm rested under his head, his broad chest and defined muscles impossible to ignore. Better than a manga protagonist. He fell asleep quickly. Thoughtfully, I turned down the AC. After reading a bit more, I turned off the light and went to sleep. In the dark, Caleb silently opened his eyes, looking at Lily beside him with a complex expression. She was fast asleep, eyes closed tight, breathing shallowly. No copping a feel, no "pan-frying." Just Caleb staring until dawn. The next day, I walked out of the bedroom bleary-eyed. Auntie Wang was making breakfast. The delicious smell woke up my appetite. I sat down obediently. Today it was sweet potato pancakes and soy milk. Auntie Wang asked with a smile: "Is it good?" My mouth was too busy to answer, so I nodded vigorously. "Don't choke." She brought me a cup of soy milk. "My kids don't like my cooking." Talking about her children, Auntie Wang couldn't help but sigh. I comforted her: "They don't know what's good." Auntie Wang genuinely liked Lily. Although she looked cold, every time she ate something delicious, her eyes would light up instantly. It gave her a sense of accomplishment. "By the way, where's Caleb? He's not up yet?" "He took a sleeping pill last night." Sleeping pill? Auntie Wang recalled cleaning up this morning. The sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet didn't look touched. But the lid on the instant coffee wasn't screwed on tight. 3 I didn't expect Caleb to sleep until the afternoon. Sleeping so long, yet he still had dark circles under his eyes. [His sleep quality really sucks. Good thing I didn't touch him last night, or he would have slept even worse. I better behave in the future.] Caleb, who had his back to me, suddenly turned around, staring at me darkly for a long time: "I slept very well." "?" [What's it to me?] Caleb ignored me. [Men are so complicated. Annoying.] Caleb slammed the door shut. Bang. In the evening, the high school group chat became active. The class monitor was organizing a reunion. My best friend Peach called: "Lily, you're going, right?" "Yeah, I happen to have time." Peach and I met in high school and coincidentally went to the same college. We've always been close. "What about your husband? Is he coming?" The phone volume was loud. I looked up at Caleb opposite me. He opened his mouth. [Don't say yes. I don't want to bring him.] Caleb closed his mouth. He shook his head gently. I replied to Peach with satisfaction: "He's not going." Peach seemed relieved on the other end. "Good that he's not coming. Jake is coming too. You remember him, right? Your high school boyfriend. He's been single since you broke up. Heard he still wears the bracelet you gave him." Peach's voice came through clearly. "...It's fine." I replied dryly. "Okay then, next Tuesday at 7 PM. Be there or be square." The call ended. Seeing Caleb calm and composed, the faint unease in my heart vanished. [What am I worrying about? Even if I really cheated, he wouldn't care. How could he get upset over such a small...] "No!" Caleb's face suddenly turned cold. Startled, I stared at him blankly. [What's his problem?!] Meeting my gaze, Caleb's brow twitched, and his expression relaxed: "I meant Auntie Wang's cooking isn't good today." Auntie Wang, rushing over with a spatula: "?" 4 Before leaving on Tuesday. Caleb spent forever preening in front of the mirror. From head to toe, everything was exquisite. He was already good-looking with a model's figure. Dressed up like this, he was even more eye-catching. [Peach says when men dress up, 80% chance they're cheating.] Caleb paused, hairspray in hand. He awkwardly put down the spray. Turning back, his gaze fell gloomily on my bare shoulders. "It'll be cold tonight. Take a shawl." "It's 85 degrees tonight." "...Drive safe." When I arrived at the reunion, the private room was full. Peach waved me over. I sat next to her. She nudged me, signaling me to look sideways, whispering: "Look at his hand." Jake had shed some of his youthful awkwardness, chatting confidently with others. As he raised his glass, his sleeve slipped, revealing that worn bracelet. It was a trinket I bought across the street from our school years ago. In high school, Caleb was in the class next door. Our relationship was average, barely maintaining the bond of growing up together. We hardly interacted at school. But Caleb's mom often asked him to bring me things, and he waited for me outside my class every day. Eventually, everyone knew about us. And misunderstood our relationship. I explained a few times, but no one listened, so I stopped bothering. Later, those rumors disappeared. Because of Jake. He clarified for me whenever he could, more actively than I did. Under his incessant nagging, classmates got annoyed or bored and gradually stopped gossiping about me and Caleb. After school, to thank Jake, I treated him to bubble tea across the street. That was the first time I didn't go home with Caleb. Hearing my words, Caleb didn't say much, just nodded slightly and left. Jake and Caleb were complete opposites. He was enthusiastic and outgoing, never hiding his emotions. Happy was happy, unhappy was unhappy. At eighteen, he confessed to me. I didn't really understand what liking was or wasn't. But on his thirty-fifth confession, I said yes. Jake pestered me to say I liked him. Worn down, I said: "Yeah, I like you." After saying it, I saw Caleb. He stood against the light at the door, his handsome features shadowed. His black hair looked fluffy and soft in the sunset, gilded with gold. His expression was indifferent, unreadable. I felt a bit embarrassed. Jake stood with one hand in his pocket, holding my bag with the other—the bag had a bunny plushie Caleb gave me. He smiled brightly and recklessly: "Caleb, Lily and I are together now. I'll walk her home from now on. Thanks for before. Lunch is on me sometime." Caleb stared unblinkingly at Jake, lips pressed into a straight line. Even someone as dense as me sensed the tension. I walked over, took Jake's hand, and said to Caleb: "Caleb, I'll be home late. Tell my parents." "...Okay." After that, I never went home with Caleb again.
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