We burst out of the room at a slight jog, hand in hand as our family and friends continue to clap and cheer in a standing ovation. Flower petals dust our heads and shoulders. We sneak away to the room selected for us to steal a private moment before returning to the ballroom for a night of playing host as newly weds. We stop to catch our breath and face one another. We did it, we’re married. So much time and planning went into a wedding, that it was easy to miss the reality that you just legally bound yourself to your soulmate, your best friend, forever. Immediately we embrace, kissing deeper and more passionately than we dared to in front of everyone else. That’s when I felt it, that tickle on my lips. It was so brief, I questioned whether I’d felt it at all. How long has it been? Six years? The tickle was so faint that it must’ve only been but a peck. I shake off the thoughts and focus on my husband. “Let’s do this!” He says with a grin.

“Woo! This is the night best ever!” Holly, one of my bridesmaids was completely wasted, jumping up and down to the music while screaming this in my ear. The reception had been a success; the first dance, the toasts, the food. The only part that I still harped on were the dances with our parents. We both knew it would be awkward but at least they managed to paste on smiles for the rest of the guests.

I only have my dad and my husband only has his mom and unfortunately they both were and still are, not happy with our relationship. It started right from the beginning. My father was stoic when I first brought him home, I figured that’s how all dads were with their only daughter’s adult boyfriend. His mom was the same and over time we understood that they disliked our relationship immensely. We both tried to pry the reasons out of our respective parent but to no avail. We even, for a time, stopped talking to them completely. Six years ago actually, the last time I had felt my lips tingle. This odd, ability so to speak can only be felt when someone I love kisses someone else and within close proximity to me. I hadn’t been able to figure out who it was the last time it happened all those years ago and now tonight, earlier, I was sure I felt it again. Who is here tonight, that I was also around almost 6 years ago to the day?

I scan the dance floor and the tables looking for my father but can’t spot him. I find my husband and pull him aside. “Have you seen my dad?” I ask. “No I haven’t, funnily enough I can’t find my mom either.” Just at that moment I felt it again but stronger. The tickling sensation like my lips were being pricked with needles. I run my fingers across them, feeling concerned. My husband immediately notices and understands what’s happening. “Your lips? Really? It’s been so long.” “I know” I reply. We leave the ballroom and wander the halls of the venue. We pass a row of doors and pause. The distinct sounds of clothing brushing against clothing, the wet sounds of kissing and the soft noises of passion emanate from what seemed to be a storage closet. My lips were on fire, I winced as my husband flung open the door. To our shock and horror, our parents, my father and my husband’s mother, were engaging in some serious necking. They parted as fast as opposing magnets and all four of us stared at each other.

“What is going on here?” my husband asked in almost a whisper. I felt enlightened and sick. “Is this why you’ve hated our relationship, because you two were together? Are together…whatever!” My father spoke, “no hun that’s not the reason. Yes it’s true we were in a relationship but it was 30 years ago!””However, sometimes, we would get together and rekindle.””Thirty years ago, how is that even possible?” my husband asked. “I’m only just now 30-“. His eyes went wide and he stared wildly at his mother. She sighed, “yea hun, we tried to tell you guys but you wouldn’t…listen.””BECAUSE YOUR EXCUSES WERE BULLSHIT!” my husband roared.

I was numb. My lips throbbed. Siblings.