The Imitation Game ✓

THIRTY-TWO | WORDS FAIL

Three Months Later

Cora had dated boys in the past, but this is her first real romance.

It is subway rides together, shared cups of coffee.

It is her legs swung over his lap while they watch a movie, sneaking in kisses during the scenes that bore them.

It is creating a playlist together that they can sing along to while they cook dinner.

It is a kiss on the palm right before each show, a reassurance that they are there for each other, that they are capable, that they are incredible.

Then it is that frantic way they kiss each other onstage, the pleasure they take in the secret that it isn't all an act anymore. It is the softness with which his lips find her own when no one else is there to watch.

It is resting her head against his chest at night, the window cracked so that the first draft of autumn breeze might creep in and caress them in the same way his fingers trail along her skin.

It is realizing that they have years of history to reclaim, years of shared experiences. It is telling a story about her childhood and getting interrupted halfway because she has forgotten that he already knows the classmates she is talking about, the street she drove down every morning to go to school, the spot under the bleachers where kids would make out. It is realizing that despite feeling like she hadn't known his heart at all, she already knows so many of its nooks and crannies.

It is the words they mumble against each other while they are already being pulled into the arms of sleep, only half-sensical and yet profoundly intimate.

It is feeling like she is flying, like she is falling, like he is holding her steady through all of it.

And it is telling her friends.

For the entire first month, she kept it a secret. It felt too good to be true and too ridiculous that the two of them could end up romantically linked after all this time, so absurd that for those first few weeks, she felt like she was constantly holding her breath, waiting for something to go wrong. For the illusion to shatter, for them to realize that it did not work at all and ask themselves, what the hell were we thinking?

And then none of that happened, and then they were looking at a calendar and suddenly realizing that a whole month had already passed in the blink of an eye. It felt silly to celebrate a one-month anniversary and there was nothing for them to do, anyway—it was pouring down rain in buckets outside—but that didn't stop them from opening the nicest bottle of wine they had on hand.

Telling her friends happened with varying levels of success. The following day, Cora had found Siena reading a copy of Romeo and Juliet, of all things. She figured it was as good of a time as any to bite the bullet. But if she had thought that Sie was going to be surprised, she was wrong.

"Well, yeah," she hummed as she set the book aside. "I kind of assumed as much when you dropped the whole Bumble idea and started disappearing at night. I figured if it were any other guy, you would have just told me."

"Oh," was all Cora could say, because Siena was right on target.

"But I get why you were nervous. I mean, I honestly don't really trust the guy based on what you've said about him in the past, but I also don't know him at all. It's your life—just be smart about it."

"I will," Cora promised her. "And for what it's worth, I don't need you to trust him yet. I just need you to trust me."

At that, Sie cracked a smile. "That much I can do. But you need to let him come over for dinner sometime so I can actually meet him again. I don't think that one time in the coffee shop counts."