Misch had stretched out on the bed, upside down, and rested her feet against the wall. Tal laid down from where he was sitting, and both their heads were near each other. Then they started talking.

Something they'd said they wouldn't do.

“Military man, I should've guessed. Is that what you do now, take pictures for the military?” she continued, dropping her feet so they were on the pillows, her legs bent at the knees.

“No, I haven't been in the military for a while. I left when I was twenty-three,” he explained. With him saying that, she realized for the first time that she didn't even know his age.

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“How'd you get into photography?”

“Long story.”

“I've got time.”

“Maybe I don't.”

“Testy.”

“I'd rather hear about you. You're more interesting. How old are you? How'd college work out for you?”

“Twenty-seven. I graduated with a liberal arts degree, but I always wanted to be a dance instructor. I was in a studio for a long time, but then I tore my ACL. I went to work in insurance, never went back,” she filled him in.

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

“I don't know. It just wasn't … I almost didn't want to dance anymore. I mean, I did, but I gained a lot of weight. I always felt like shit, my marriage was horrible, everything. Dancing just made it worse. So I didn't do it,” she tried to explain. There was a small pause, then Tal cleared his throat.

“So what was your plan?” he asked. It was vague, but she knew what he meant.

“I was gonna come here and be a heartless vixen. I had given up when you found me,” she reminded him.

“I'm glad I did.”

“Me, too. I never meant for it to be more, though,” she spoke slowly, not wanting to spook him. “Maybe a one night stand here and there. It sounds awful, but I just wanted to cheat, just wanted to sleep with other people. I just … wanted to be touched. I wasn't looking to have an affair, I didn't want to do that to him. Physically cheating is bad enough. Emotionally cheating … that's even worse.”

“Why did you marry him?” Tal questioned. She'd been waiting for it.

“Because I loved him. I love him, as hard as that is to believe. We started dating when we were nineteen, and it was so awesome, you know? We had been best friends, and we got along great, and then hey, throw sex in the mix, and it felt like the jackpot. But after a couple years, it kinda cooled off. I just chalked it up to how relationships go or whatever. He had started a new job, I was busy at the studio. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't have spent so much time there,” she finished with a sigh.

“No. If that was the only problem, then it would've changed when you stopped dancing,” Tal pointed out. She shrugged.

“Maybe. I thought getting married would change things. Like, maybe he was all stressed out about proposing. Then I told myself it was the stress of planning the wedding. I just kept making excuses, kept thinking things would be different once we got married. That things would get better. But they didn't. They just kept getting worse. Both of us stopped caring about each other, at least in that way. We're still friends, though,” Misch assured him.

“Hmmm, friends. I can't think of anything worse than being married to a girl who 'friend zoned' me,” he said. She frowned.

“But it wasn't always like this, really. We used to have such great times – we still do. You'd probably like him, he's a lot like me, only funnier. Always up for a good time, always wants to be laughing, or doing something,” she described her husband. Now it was Tal's turn to frown.

“I don't think I could ever like someone like him,” he replied.

“That's not really fair – just because I'm unhappy, doesn't make him a bad guy or something,” she argued.

“That's not why I wouldn't like him, I don't think he's a bad guy.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don't think I could like any man that has touched you the way I get to touch you,” Tal's voice was low. Mischa felt a flush spread across her body.

Heelllloooooo, new territories, new boundaries.

“Oh. Well. I doubt you'll ever meet my husband, anyway.”

“Good.”

“Stop it.”

“You know what the problem is?” Tal suddenly said. Misch turned her head towards him. He was a little lower on the bed and she was looking into his dark hair.

“Enlighten me.”

“You married your best friend,” he said in a simple voice. She rolled her eyes and looked back at the ceiling.

“That's stupid. Everyone should be friends with the person they marry,” she argued.

“Friends, yes. Of course. But you didn't say that, you said he was your 'best friend'. I think when you guys started having sex, you got confused about what you really were. You thought sex meant he was your soulmate. No, sex just meant you were banging your best friend,” Tal explained.

Misch stayed silent and stared up at the ceiling. Best friends. She'd always been so proud of that fact, that she'd married her best friend. That they had such a great friendship. She knew a lot of married couples who barely knew each other. Not her and Mike, they were besties, could finish each others sentences.