This is based on a Korean Drama entitled A Gentleman's Dignity about a group of four friends who are forty-one years old and have been best friends since high school. One of the relationships the drama discusses is between Choi Yoon, a lawyer and one of the four friends, and Im Meahri, the twenty-four-year-old sister of Im Tae-San, another one of the four friends. This romantic relationship is actually quite well done with the young girl chasing after the older man who continually turns her down because of the age difference and his past until he realizes he cannot live without her.
I was really interested in this story because it ended it what seemed like a happy marriage between a couple with a seventeen year age difference. But I wondered, what is really like to be married to someone you knew as a child and have such an age difference with while negotiating the new husband-wife relationship? Here's my take.
I do not own AGD or any of the characters.
*Yoon was previously widowed (for four years); his wife's name was Jung Ah.
The first night was really a first afternoon, light pouring through the windows, suitcases half-forgotten on the floor, clothes thrown around the spacious suite. The sheets were cool and crisp and the bodies that were tangled in them warm and soft. The newlywed couple was hesitant with each other, nervous, blushing. Their rings felt conspicuous on their fingers, the relationship sudden and new. He had to remind himself that the woman beside was no longer unattainable, unreachable, forbidden. She was now his wife.
Afterwards, when she fell asleep next to him, he memorized the peaceful features of her sleeping face before brushing her hair away from her eyes. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on her cheek before holding her in his arms.
The second night they were less timid, aided by the bottle of wine they had shared in the hotel restaurant. He anxiously held her hand as they rode the elevator the twenty stories to their suite, his impatience shared by his bride who kept shifting her weight from foot to foot. As they closed the door behind them, he leaned in for a deep kiss, his tongue teasing her mouth open. She broke off the kiss, fumbling for a moment as she kicked off her heels and then he worked on the zipper of her dress as she undid his tie. That night, he kissed every inch of her body, aware of how beautiful she was, how young, how soft, how womanly.
The third night they had been in bed for hours when darkness fell, held at bay by the rain and thunder that pounded outside the windows. She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder as he read emails on his tablet. When he saw how deeply she was breathing, he put the tablet away and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. She shifted at the movement so that her arm was wrapped around his waist. He smiled before letting himself drift off to sleep.
The fourth night, the couple, still shy with each other, turned all the lights off before climbing into the large bed. Then she kissed him first, softly, gently before the kiss hardened with desire and need. This time, she guided him and showed him what she needed and wanted. And he complied.
The fifth night, they were talking on the balcony discussing the life they would have together, reiterating promises of goodness to one another. As usual, they danced around the topic the age difference that would catch up to them sooner rather than later. Instead, they talked about career and family and Sunday mornings when they could stay in their pajamas. They mentioned the rain that had forced them indoors, and the beautiful view from the balcony. As she leaned over the railing, he wrapped his arms protectively around her waist and rested his head in the space where her neck met her shoulder and looked with her at the expanse before them. Breathing in, he could smell the flower-smell of the perfume she preferred and had used every day since their wedding.
He had begun by kissing the back of her neck and then her shoulder. He hadn't realized his kisses had become needy until she moaned softly and pressed her palm against his cheek. He let go of her and spun her around before giving her a deep kiss on the lips. Then, he pulled her by the wrist into the welcoming darkness of their suite.
The sixth night they left the lights on for the first time. He was hesitant, afraid she would see the marks of age apparent on his body. But she didn't seem to notice as she undressed him and then him her. Her eyes seemed wide with unbelief that they could freely love each other, be with each other. Their shyness seemed to fade away as they became familiar, comfortable, with each other.
The seventh night was really morning before the check-out time at the front desk. They lingered in bed well past any decent hour, lazily talking about what would happen in the next few weeks. He noticed that she smiled more and brightly, her eyes shining. He silently promised himself once more that he would never let her go. When she leaned in to kiss him, it felt as natural and good and right. It felt like home.
The eighth night was their first in their new home. She took it all in with a deep breath and a critical eye. It was a spacious apartment he had found and she had carefully helped pick out the furniture that filled the expansive space. When she saw the dishes stacked on a lower shelf, she sighed in satisfaction because she knew she was where she was supposed to be.
She entered the bedroom shyly and saw him unpacking the bag he had taken on their honeymoon. He said nothing as she looked around and saw the dresser and the drawers that had been designated for her use. Any stranger could tell it was a couple's room just by objects that were scattered about.
He stopped his unpacking when she walked in and studied her for a moment before speaking quietly. "I haven't shared a bedroom with a woman in a long time. You need to tell me if I did something wrong."
She sighed and smiled. "I have never shared a room with a man before. You need to tell me what you like."
His gaze suddenly became longing as he looked at her. "I like you in here with me."
"Me too," she answered back. She began to walk across the space that separated them, her slippers making dull noises against the tile, stopping in front of him before wrapping her arms around his waist. His eyes widened in surprise before he reciprocated the motion and then rested his cheek on the top of her head.
"I love you, Yoon," she told him informally, using his name without the honorary oppa attached to it.
He held her closer before he responded, "I love you, Meahri." They stayed like that for a while, until they were sure the other person knew what was in their hearts.