The Monday after returning from Niseko, Mr. O suggested having lunch. Curious to know how things would play out between us, I made reservations at a quaint French café known for its mouthwatering fish. Hurrying out of my office and into a cab, my thoughts were preoccupied with one question: what next?

Mr. O was obviously happy to see me and we slipped into comfortable conversation. There was a sense of “coupling” in the air; you know, the reason you can tell why two strangers are a couple. I wondered briefly how Mr. O and I looked to others in the café. Did we seem a couple too?

To my relief, Mr. O didn’t bring up our involvement in Niseko and if my heart wasn’t beating faster around him, I wouldn’t have imagined that anything had changed. Then again, I had to find out whether he brushed it off as a romantic holiday aberration. This proved harder than it sounds because Mr. O didn’t make a single move during lunch and I was left in the dark.

Walking back together to our respective offices after lunch, I was wallowing in self-pity and convinced that Mr. O wasn’t interested any longer. However, just as I was mentally kicking myself, Mr. O suddenly grabbed my hand and before I could comprehend the enormity of what happened, our fingers were entwined and the man continued talking about office gossip as if things were perfectly normal. Honestly, sometimes men are simply clueless.

Now, I don’t know what your favorite coupling behavior is but mine has always been strolling down the street hand in hand with my man. And Mr. O kept up the hand-holding every time we met after that lunch. I guess it’s safe to say that I’m now one half of a couple. But the question I had over that fateful lunch lingers: what next?

Image courtesy of Huonglan