Chapter 3

"That's when you, as the man, need to step up and make the decision for her. Firmly."

"You have to show her an attitude that says, 'I know you're worried about the money, but I want to give you the best, and I'm doing this because I want to. All you have to do is accept it.'"

Uncle George took a sip of tea to wet his throat.

"If you'd just told the saleswoman to wrap it up right there in the store, and then said to her, 'I just want to see you wearing it.'"

"I bet you anything, the minute she walked out of that store, she might still have scolded you for wasting money, but inside she'd have been over the moon. She'd have cooked you a whole spread that night."

I covered my face in regret.

So it turned out I hadn't just missed a chance to prove myself. I'd also pushed her into disappointment with my own two hands.

"Get it now?" Uncle George patted my shoulder.

"Point one: watch her body language. As long as she doesn't shove you away hard, as long as she doesn't physically run from you, her 'no' is as thin as a sheet of paper. All you have to do is have the guts to tear right through it."

After hearing Uncle George break down the first point, it was like a light had switched on in my head. Most of the gloom inside me cleared away.

Right after that, though, I remembered all the everyday things Summer did that drove me crazy.

"Uncle George, what about all the unreasonable stuff she pulls? Is that a hint too?"

I asked urgently.

"Like when I help with the housework, she insists I'm doing it wrong and snatches it out of my hands. Or I ask her what she wants to eat, she says 'whatever,' and then when I make something, she won't eat it."

"Any way you look at it, she's just making things hard for me. She's really mad at me, right?"

Uncle George gave a faint smile, his eyes glinting with the knowing look of a man who had seen it all.

Instead of answering me directly, he asked a question of his own.

"Have you ever read Pride and Prejudice?"

I paused, then shook my head.

"Too long. I never had the patience. All I know is Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy."

Uncle George sighed, looking at me like I was illiterate.

"Then let me tell you how Elizabeth Bennet does romance."

He turned the teacup in his hand and launched into the story at an easy pace.

"Put Elizabeth Bennet in today's world, and she'd be the kind of high-maintenance drama queen who gives a clueless guy a headache."

"Darcy says a few words to some other girl, and she's ready with the sarcasm."

"Darcy gives her something everyone else already got, and she turns on him in a heartbeat: 'I knew it. You'd never give me anything unless the others had already picked it over.'"

"There was even one time Darcy made her angry, and in a fit of temper she took every sachet she'd ever made for him by hand and cut them to shreds."

Uncle George told it so vividly that I kept frowning as I listened.

"That's an awful temper, isn't it? Isn't she just picking fights on purpose?"

"Yes. She's picking fights on purpose."

Uncle George nodded firmly.

"And that's the second sign I want to tell you about: she deliberately gives you a hard time, but she never actually cuts you off."

He looked at me, his gaze turning razor-sharp.

"You think Elizabeth Bennet really hated Darcy?"

"When she was cutting up those sachets, her heart was bleeding. She gave him a hard time because she cared about him. She was testing whether she held a one-of-a-kind place in his heart."

"If she'd truly stopped caring, she'd be like Jane Bennet: graceful and composed, not a single flaw to pick at, but keeping you at an absolute distance."

I felt like I'd grasped something, but it was still a little hazy.

Seeing that, Uncle George went on, using the old story to explain the present.

"Take those old-fashioned feelings and put them in a modern woman, and they fit just the same."

"Your girlfriend complains you do the housework badly and grabs it to do herself. Does she really look down on you?"

"If she really did, she'd chew you out to your face, then go back to her parents' place and leave you alone with a house full of garbage."

"She grabs it and does it herself, complaining the whole time. She's actually showing you how much she puts in. The subtext is: 'Look how hard I'm working. Why aren't you hurrying over to sweet-talk me, hug me, and tell me I'm doing great?'"

A picture flashed through my mind of Summer snatching the broom and sweeping the floor in a huff.

I really had just stood there watching like a block of wood. I'd even thought she was being unreasonable, and in the end I'd quietly gone back to my room.

No wonder she'd thrown the broom down in anger afterward.

"Another example,"

Uncle George tapped the table. "You ask her what she wants to eat, she says 'whatever,' and you make something she won't eat."

"She's not against the noodles you made. She's punishing you for going through the motions."

"What makes her angry is that you didn't notice how she was feeling. What makes her angry is that you didn't keep her on your mind enough to put in the effort and figure out what she actually wanted to eat."

Uncle George leaned forward slightly, his tone turning serious.

"When a woman starts deliberately giving you a hard time, throwing problems at you, even losing her temper with you, as long as she's still by your side and still interacting with you,"

"then she doesn't really want to drive you away."

"She's testing your patience, testing your limits, and most importantly, she's longing for you to comfort her."

"She's like a kid who breaks a toy on purpose in front of the grown-ups, just to get their attention."

It suddenly all made sense, and a cold sweat broke out across my back.

"So when that happens, I can't hide, and I can't try to reason with her either?" I asked tentatively.

"Reason with her?"

Uncle George stared at me like I was an alien.

"Reasoning with an angry woman? Are you tired of living?"

"When she gives you a hard time, what you need to do isn't argue your case, and it isn't back off."

"You need to catch her emotions."

"If she says you didn't sweep clean enough, don't drop the broom and walk away. Hug her from behind and tell her, 'Babe, you've been working so hard. I'm such an idiot. I'll practice more from now on. As punishment, I'll give you a massage tonight.'"

"If she won't eat the noodles you made, don't ask, 'What do you even want?' Just take her hand and say, 'Come on, I know a new dessert place that just opened. Let me take you there so you can cool off.'"

Every word Uncle George said was a gem, and every line struck right at my heart.

I finally understood what that phrase "women need to be wooed" really meant.

It wasn't about being a smooth talker. It was about the kind of emotional support that could catch her when she fell.