I awoke to a high nasally voice overhead.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Venice, Italy."

I sat up, wondering what was going on and where I was. I was soon reminded as Owen got up from his seat beside me and held his hand out to me. I was on my honeymoon with Owen in Italy. We were married.

My husband and I made our way out of the plane and into the airport.

"How does it feel to be on Italian ground?" Owen asked me as we collected out baggage from the carousel.

"Great," I told him.

The Palace Bonvecchiati

When we entered our suite, I couldn't help but gasp.

It was beautiful.

It was all cherry oak wood and cream-colored furniture, and the bedroom had a four poster bed that could fit five people in it. I was in heaven. I hugged Owen as tight as a possibly could and kissed him.

"This room is amazing!" I told him.

"I know," he replied, looking around still.

After about twenty more minutes of fussing about the suite, I told Owen to go buy us some champagne so that we could celebrate. I made a point of emphasizing the word "celebrate".

As soon as he left, I hurried to prepare myself. I took a quick shower, slipped on a silk lavender lingerie dress that showed off my "assets" and dimmed the lights. I was just spritzing myself with some perfume when I heard Owen call my name.

"Annabel, you still here?"

"Yeah," I called back to him from the bedroom.

"I didn't know which kind of champagne you wanted, so I got Chalet de Franco and…" he trailed off as I appeared in the doorway. "Labelle Marco," he finished. He looked me up and down. "Oh," his voice was low as he stared at me.

I woke up the next morning, I was resting my head on Owen's chest. I looked up to see him already awake, his hands stretched behind his head. He looked down at me and gave a half smile.

I sat up a little, just enough so that I could say "Good morning", and then kiss his ear.

"Hey," his voice was casual.

I lay back down. "How are you?" I asked, running a hand over his stomach under the covers.

"Fine," he answered nonchalantly.

"I'm glad you're feeling okay," I told him. I propped myself on my elbows and kissed him on the cheek. "I," I informed him, "am going to go take a shower."

"Good luck with that," he said as I got up, head toward the bathroom.

While in the shower, I did some thinking about the night before. It was our first time doing it together, and I knew for a fact that he was a virgin before last night. He'd told me this way back in our first year in college, I had visited in his dorm room.

I walked slowly and tentatively down a long corridor. I turned to my left, knocking on the door of dorm room 207. Before I even entered, I could hear the muffled sound of music. The door opened, and Owen appeared, his huge frame filling up the doorway.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" he exclaimed, pulling me into his room. As I entered, music filled my ears, pulsing through my veins.

"Isn't it awesome?" he asked me, as I froze mid-step in to the room. There a loud base line, the rhythm was skewed. Either that or there was no rhythm. With it there was some kind of clanking noise, along with someone voicing what sounded like a Tarzan yell.

"Super," I managed to yell.

It was at that point that I was aware of movement to my left. I turned, and there was Rolly, coming out of the bathroom, his head bobbing.

"Hey," I greeted him.

"Hey, Annabel!" he replied cheerily.

Owen walked over to the stereo next to his bed and turned the volume down, the notes slowly fading until the music was playing at a normal volume.

"It's called 'The Death of Toast'", Rolly informed me.

"Oh."

It was a techno song. Great. I didn't even try to mask my disapproval as I listened intently to the song.

Owen knew by the look on my face that I wasn't feeling it. "Let's face it, man," he told Rolly, "There is no power on this earth that could change her opinion of techno."

I saw Rolly's shoulders slump. "Aw, well," he said. "We tried. Hey, guys, I gotta get going. I'll see you guys later." We said our goodbyes and then Rolly was gone. I stayed where I was, silent.

"I can't believe you didn't like the song," Owen said to me from his bed. I got up and sat next to him.

"I don't like techno," I told him.

"Obviously," he murmured. "Which is why I have officially given up on trying to convince you otherwise."

"Good," I said curtly. I looked down at my hands in my lap. I knew he was looking at me. I looked up at him.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"Nothing," I told him.

"Clearly," he said, "it is not nothing."

He was closer to me now, his arm pressed to mine. I looked into his eyes for a moment, then kissed him. He was a bit surprised at this random act, but I was not. I had a lot on my mind, and I was wondering how, exactly I would tell him. Finally, after just looking at him for a long time, I asked, "Are you a virgin?" and I knew he would tell me the truth, whether he wanted to or not.

He turned slightly pink. "Um, well, yeah," he said.

"Oh," I said.

"It would only be impolite if I did not ask you…" he trailed off, and I knew he remembered too late that no, I was not a virgin, because of what happened with Will Cash all those years ago.

But I answered his question anyway. "I was a virgin…before Will."

He lowered his eyes. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I told him. "I'm not embarrassed."

"And that's good," he told me, and then he kissed me.

Then I remembered when he proposed. It was right after our college graduation, and we were in his car, about to go in to the station for our Sunday show. It was the first time he had told me he loved me, and that he wanted to be with me. Permanently.

Then I remembered our wedding day, which had only been a few days before. When the preacher announced us man and wife, I did not wait for him to give Owen permission to kiss me. I practically threw myself at him, draping my arms around his neck as I pressed my lips to his. There was an applaud from all of our loved ones, and I heard specifically Mallory, who was shouting, "Way to go, Annabel!" over the crowd.

I smiled to myself at these memories. Suddenly I came back to reality when I heard Owen's voice from a crack in the door. "Annabel, are you almost finished? You've been in there a while."

"Sorry," I said over the running water. "I'll be out soon."

I heard the door shut. Minutes later I was walking out of the bathroom, donned in one of the complementary bathrobes provided by the hotel. The bed, although haphazardly, was made, and Owen was in the same position that I had left him in earlier, his eyes closed. I plopped on the bed, making him open his eyes.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"I take long showers," I said, "get used to it."

"Whatever." He was sitting up now.

I pulled out my lotion and started to rub my legs with it. Owen just kind of sat there, watching me rub lotion on my legs. I looked up at him. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said abruptly. Then he headed to the bathroom. A minute later I heard the shower come on.

I glanced at the room around me. I realized how lucky we were. This room, I knew, had cost a pretty penny. We were only a year out of college, and already had solid jobs: Owen was a producer for enlightened bands like Truth Squad, and others, and I was a working at a high end law firm. Both of our jobs paid really well. So well that we were able to live in the same neighborhood as my parents were living in now, the same one I had lived in when I met him. Our house wouldn't be as grand as the glass house, but it was still nice. When we got back to the U.S., we would move straight into our new home.

I got dressed and stalked out to the living room/dining/kitchen area. There was nothing to eat in the room, so I just sat in the living room and tries to focus on the TV. It didn't work. My mind kept straying. I turned the TV off and just sat on the sift sofa in silence.

Then, through the open door of the bedroom, I could see Owen crossing the room, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, and another, smaller towel he used to dry his hair.

He came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, fully dressed. He just stood there in the doorway for a second, and I pulled my knees up to my chest. And then, just like last night, I saw that unfamiliar expression cross his face. It was aimed at me, and I wondered what he was thinking, since he hadn't said a word.

But then, just as quickly as it came, The Look vanished from his face and he said to me, "Are you ready to go?"

I blinked. "Go where?"

"We are supposed to go on a tour of the city. The bus leaves at two, and it is one thirty right now, so maybe we should go."

"Oh, right," I said finally remembering. And at that, we left.