Back when we were in the early months of dating, my wife, Lisa, acknowledged that she can be flirtatious. She also said that one of the things she liked about me is that I don't get jealous, which allows her to be herself around other men. She was right, but on the other hand, she had never crossed any lines that I knew of, and I did not doubt her fidelity, so I had no reason to exhibit any jealousy in the first place.
I was attending law school at the time Lisa and I were dating. While law school entails a lot of studying, the truth is that law students do find time to go out and party together. So, over many months of occasional meet-ups at bars and several house parties, I had plenty of opportunities to get to know how Lisa interacts with new people. She would talk to anyone, always seeking a fun conversation and some laughs. Her ability to make friends so easily helped me a lot, as I have always tended toward being shy and quiet. Lisa was usually there by my side to fill in what would otherwise be uncomfortable silences that I caused because I didn't know what to say. And she had a knack for steering a conversation into topics that we all could talk about. If not for Lisa, I probably would have had far fewer friends in those law school years.
Inevitably, sometimes men who didn't know she and I were together would hit on her. I didn't fault them for that, because Lisa is very attractive. It's not just her friendliness which invites attention, but her good looks, as well. In a word, she is petite. Some might say she is too thin, but I think "athletic" is a more apt description, as she has enviable muscle tone from years of morning jogs and weekly games of tennis with her brother, Dale. She loves being out in the sunshine when she can, so she naturally keeps an even tan, which complements her long, blond hair and sets off her light blue eyes. One of the things I love about her, though, is that she doesn't usually wear clothes that show off her body. The way she describes it, she likes to simply "dress comfortably," which generally translates to something like loose-fitting jeans, a sweatshirt, and a baseball cap to keep her hair out of her face. Her appearance is that of being very approachable, and to me, very huggable, she's just so cute.
As I sit here thinking about how cute she is, I am reminded of what exemplifies that most, which is this: When she's wearing that baseball cap, she keeps the arched bill pulled down low over her face, and the bill is curved such that her eyes seem to be visible only to whomever she is facing. Since I am significantly taller than her, she has to look upward in an exaggerated way to see me from underneath the cap. I find it both ridiculous and adorable, but I keep that a secret, because I don't want her to become conscious of it and possibly change her habits as a result.
There were several occasions over those months of dating Lisa in which I could see her interacting with people without me by her side. Oftentimes I would pause for a moment just to admire her from across the room and question how I could be so lucky to have her. But I must also admit that sometimes I would pause just to see how she and another man interacted while I wasn't around, particularly when I suspected he would hit on her or when I thought she might find him to be attractive.
After several months I came to realize that Lisa's flirtations with other men were expressed exclusively through smiles, laughs, and words. Even when she drank a few alcoholic beverages, which tend to lower inhibitions, she never reached out and touched a man while talking with him, like so many women do when they're flirting, and the men never tried to touch her, either. It's as if those men knew subconsciously that they didn't have a chance with her. All the gathered evidence indicated to me that Lisa's flirtations - if they even rose to meet that definition - were innocent, and I had no reason to mistrust her. Furthermore, if the subject would naturally come up, Lisa would quite matter-of-factly tell me if she thought another man was good-looking, and the conversation about another man's looks never made her nervous or our conversation uncomfortable. This showed me both that she was honest and that she trusted our relationship. Eventually I knew beyond any doubt that, no matter how attractive another man might appear to be, the flirtations were meaningless, and I was the only man for Lisa.
Now it has been just over two years since Lisa and I married. Until last night, I thought that these three or four years together have been great. But here I sit, reevaluating everything I thought I knew, looking for clues that I might have missed, and trying to figure out what our future together will look like.
You see, we are here visiting the city just to enjoy a weekend together walking around and seeing the sights in this mild summer weather. Yesterday's weather in particular was perfect. It was sunny, and the temperature was at the point where I could choose to wear shorts and a T-shirt, or long pants and a long shirt, and either way I'd feel comfortable. I ended up wearing khakis and a T-shirt. And strange as it is to say this, I already know that I will never forget what Lisa wore yesterday, as unremarkable as it may seem: a navy blue T-shirt, white jeans, her tennis shoes, and her faded dark gray baseball cap. I'll remember the white jeans specifically because I have always found white jeans to be sexy, and Lisa's white jeans are not fitted as loosely as her other jeans. They aren't fitted too tightly, either. No, Lisa's white jeans are only tight enough to show that she is thin and muscular, but not so tight as to readily reveal additional details. Of course, as sexy as Lisa looked to me, we were both dressed only for comfort, as we knew we'd be out walking all day.
Since I'm thinking about what we wore yesterday, it comes to mind that I noticed sometime in the late afternoon that Lisa wasn't wearing a bra. We were entering a building, and as a matter of habit I placed my hand on her back to signal her to go through the door before me. Ladies first, right? I didn't feel her bra underneath my hand, but instead only the cool dampness of a light sweat brought about by all the walking. The way she tells it, she doesn't have much need for a bra, and therefore often doesn't wear one. So I didn't think anything of it. I simply noticed its absence, is all.
It is true that Lisa has small breasts which, to my mind, befit her slim figure and flat belly. Lisa, on the other hand, sometimes has referred to herself as "flat-chested." I think that's an overstatement, if only because she makes that description sound like a criticism. I like her small breasts. I love it that she often doesn't wear a bra. Sometimes when she bends over her shirt hangs down and I get a surprise peek at her nipples, and sometimes when we are hugging or kissing I'm able to quickly slip a hand under her shirt to touch her bare back or bare chest, which can be a huge turn-on for both of us.
It was late in the evening before we had dinner. We had been walking back toward our hotel and were nearly there when we came across a pub with its food menu displayed prominently on the exterior wall next to the door. The food choices looked delicious and well-priced, so we entered. Inside and seated, the waiter approached, introduced himself as Chris, and let us know the kitchen would be closing soon. I don't remember the exact words exchanged, but it was something like this:
"Oh, did we arrive too late?" asked Lisa.
"No, you still have about 15 or 20 minutes until it closes," responded Chris. "And the bar stays open until midnight, at least, so no worries."
"Well, as long as we don't piss off the cooks by coming too late, we're good," I added.
"Yeah, you're fine. Could I start you off with a couple of drinks?" Chris asked. "These house specialty cocktails are really good. Personally I would recommend the Blue Devil. It's sweet, but not too sweet, if you know what I mean."
Lisa looked over the description of the Blue Devil. I read it, too. I remember it had rum, blended berries, some energy drink, and some other things that I can't recall now.
Lisa said, "Yeah, that does sound good. I'll have one of those."
"IPA for me, please," I said.
Chris nodded and smiled at me, then nodded and smiled at Lisa as he left to get our drinks. I noticed that Chris smiled a little bit bigger and a little longer at Lisa than he did at me, and when Lisa smiled back at him, her eyes were hidden from me by the arched bill of her baseball cap as her head was turned to face him directly. It may sound like I'm making something out of nothing, but what I saw was nuanced, and most people would probably not even see it: The effort that Lisa put forth to turn her head and smile at Chris was just slightly more effort than someone would normally put forth in those circumstances.
After Chris departed, Lisa leaned toward me as if to tell me something confidential and said, "Did you see his eyes?"
"No, I didn't notice anything. What is it?"
