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Wil likes to pretend, for Vivian's sake, that she's already gotten the hang of this living-outside-expectations thing, but that's only half-true. She may be able to swallow it better than she used to, but she still wants to scream every time a relative or well-meaning friend of the family sighs, "Yes, but when are you going to get married?"
She wishes she could react, at least: whether she smiles and shakes her head like Vivian, or stomps off muttering dark threats like Ma, she thinks anything would be better than standing there like an idiot and grinding her teeth.
When she finally explodes, it's not even the right time. The new attending probably didn't even mean anything when Vivian showed up at the hospital to pick Wil up – he only asked, "Friend of yours?"
In the overreaction of the year, Wil whirls around, grabs Vivian's hand, and snaps, "She's my girlfriend."
Vivian is still laughing helplessly when they get home.
"Stop that," Wil says, closing and locking the door behind them. "There's nothing funny about it."
"Oh, there is," Vivian giggles, holding her stomach. "The brave Sir Pang, defending my honor. And they say chivalry is dead. Even if he wasn't attacking my honor to begin with…"
"… I'm sorry." Wil shifts from foot to foot. "I'm still not good at this."
"Don't apologize," Vivian says, slipping her arms around Wil. "Maybe it's selfish to say, but I like it."
"Selfish?" Wil echoes.
Vivian smiles. Their faces are inches apart. "I shouldn't be so happy when it still bothers you so much. But I guess I like that you put up with them for me."
At times like these, Wil wants to say the sort of romantic things that women like Vivian like to hear, like I'll put up with them as long as you'll have me. But Wil's not creative like Vivian is: even when she has the words, the right way to say them escapes her. So she presses their lips together and slides her fingers down Vivian's collarbone to unbutton her blouse, and hopes that everything is understood.
It always is. Vivian's always been better at this kind of thing.