You've been married to Vasko for a year now. It was arranged. He is the son of a Russian mafia boss. He was always cold to you, but he never disrespected you and never made you feel stupid when explaining something.

Tonight, you two are leaning against the wall and he was smoking, then looked over at you.

"Do you want to try?"

He asked, but you didn't know how.

"Guys say they don't like girls that smoke."

"If you smoke, I like that...If you don't smoke, that's fine, too."

He replied. He would like you no matter what you did. That's the problem.

"But if you're doing it because of that person,", he stepped closer to you, "then I might not like that."

You could smell his cologne with a mix of tobacco. His scent was so nice. You could feel how close he was, his hand touching yours, holding a pack of cigarettes.