Pretend

ATTENTION. THIS IS AN EVACUATION NOTICE. PLEASE VACATE THE CITY. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ATTENTION. THIS IS AN EVACUATION NOTICE. PLEASE VACATE THE CITY. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

After the fourth hour or so of sirens, the man had stopped hearing the notice blaring in from the streets outside. His phone laid face up on the kitchen counter. He eyed it every few seconds. She hadn’t responded.

There were three knocks. A jolt shot down his spine, and he stared at the door paralyzed for a second. He felt as though he had been propelled into a dream— didn’t feel his feet as he approached the door. The handle felt cold and foreign in his fingers.

“Hey.” They paused. Both of them had changed visibly, but the familiar curves of each other's faces felt no different than they had years ago.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I wasn’t sure either, if I’m being honest.” She stepped in and politely kicked off her shoes. The apartment was almost exactly how she remembered it, but it was startlingly empty.

The posters were gone from the wall. The only furniture that remained from the last time she’d been there was a once-red couch that had faded to a muddy mauve. There was no longer a TV or any of the many plants she had once teased him for. She felt dizzy.

He watched her silently with a sort of awkward loneliness panging around in his chest like a marble. He never considered himself to be an emotional man, but something about her made his insides writhe in a way that he couldn’t decide was pleasant or uncomfortable. She had always made him feel this way.

“How are you?” She looked up.

“Well, The world is ending.”

“I know.”

“It feels like it, anyways.” She looked out the window. The streets and shops were abandoned and gray. She remembered the flower shop that used to be across the street and how it would always put arrangements out on the sidewalk on display. Its windows were boarded now.

“The highways are completely jammed.”

“I heard on the radio.”

“I hear people are starting to abandon their cars and walk.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you try to get out?” She shook her head.

“Once I heard about the highways, I didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” He sighed.

She said, “How are you?” He scoffed and moved into the kitchen.

“The world is ending.” She nodded and stared at her feet.

“It feels inappropriate or something to ask you what you’ve been up to.” She smiled softly to herself. He had forgotten about the dimple on the left side of her face. He imagined tracing it with his thumb. She sat down on the couch. He leaned against the counter.

“Why inappropriate?”

“I don’t know, it’s just been so long, and with everything going on…” she trailed off. He nodded.

“It’s been a little tough. I got laid off a while ago when the war had first started. You hungry?” She nodded. “My landlord took off. Nobody’s heard from him. We’ve all just been waiting for something to happen, I think. I guess it feels like everybody has.” He pulled an expensive bottle of Merlot from one of his empty cupboards. She eyed it as he scavenged a drawer for his corkscrew.

“Is that what I think it is? I thought you were saving that for an important occasion.”

“Well, I think this is important enough. Would you find it inappropriate if I asked you what’s been up with you?”

“Well,” she sighed, “after things ended with you, I took off for a couple months. I went to Alaska, actually. I always wanted to see Aurora Borealis, you know…” she trailed off again, her eyes watching the window.

“Did you?” He peeled off the casing surrounding the cork.

“Yeah.”

“How was that?” The cork came out with a satisfying pop.

“Honestly?” They made eye contact. He had changed his hairstyle, and he looked older. But his eyes were exactly the same.

He nodded at her, prompting her to continue. “It was a little disappointing. I mean, it was beautiful, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I expected something more. I remember sitting on this tour truck, with all these other tourists from the midwest or the south or wherever. And we sat out there for hours. I couldn’t feel my hands or my feet by the end of it, it was so cold. And then, there it was. It looked just like my desktop screensaver, but grander, I guess. And this whole time I was sitting there, watching it, and it was beautiful and all, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about how cold it was and how I couldn’t feel my hands. I don’t know.” The man paused for a second and then nodded.

“I always wondered where you disappeared off to after we ended things.” He poured the dark red wine into the two crystal glasses he had pulled from the cabinet. “Sorry Alaska was disappointing.” He crossed over to the couch and sat down, handing her one of the glasses.

“I’d rather not talk about that.” Her expression darkened.

“Talk about what?”

“You know. How we ended things. It’s not what I came here for.” She had a very serious look on her face that made him chuckle slightly. She shifted indignantly.

“We don’t have to talk about that.” He smiled at her charmingly. “I have a proposition, actually.” He took a small sip.

“Go on.”

“Let’s forget everything heavy. Let’s just pretend this is back on our first date. You remember that night? Let’s pretend it’s October 12th again and we’re at that restaurant down on 13th Street, and that I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Let’s pretend we have another chance to do things right, and that it will go perfectly and that we won’t screw it up this time. Let’s pretend that we were meant to be from the start. Hell, let’s pretend, just for a night, that the world isn’t ending around us.” He looked at her with a startling tenderness and sadness she had never experienced from him before.

Hesitantly, she nodded.

“I’d like that.”

He grinned. “Well, good. Because I have a dinner planned that I think you’re gonna like.”

“Where the hell did you find this? All the supermarkets near my place have been picked over for weeks.” Two plates of linguine sat in front of her with fresh tomatoes and a white-wine sauce.

Hers had extra parmesan on top, how she’d always loved her pasta.

“I had to do some bargaining, but I’d say it was worth it.”

“And what if I hadn’t come?”

“Well, I’d have used the extra pasta to console myself.” He moved his chair to sit next to her, facing the window. “So, stranger, tell me about yourself.” He smiled at her.

“Well,” she smirked, “I work at The Denver Post. I’m an editor with a vicious rapport. Or maybe I’m a pretentious artist from Paris and I have one of those stupid little dogs.” She chuckled and took a swig of wine.

“And what’s the dog’s name?”

“Fifi,” she replied in an offensively heavy accent. He laughed.

“Are you already tipsy?” She huffed.

“How dare you, monsieur?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, mademoiselle,” he smirked “forgive me.”

“Only because you are an irresistible triple-Oscar nominee voted Sexiest Man Alive by People magazine.”

“Whoa,” he scoffed, “so you think I’m irresistible? That’s a bit intense for a first date.” He grinned at her.

“Irresistibly stupid, maybe,” she teased, taking another drink of wine.

“That didn’t even make any sense.”

“I think you’re just stupid.”

“Well, you’ve deeply offended me.” He sat back, shaking his head. “And on the first date, too. I have to say, you are bad at this.”

She shook her head. “When you’re as beautiful as I am, you can be as bad as you want at first dates.”

“This is true,” he nodded, “I guess I’m just not used to the abuse. Especially considering how beautiful I am.”

“Ah, yes, that makes sense. I imagine you don’t usually date so far out of your league.”

“Usually not, no. I guess I pity you.” She laughed loudly.

“You’re funny.”

“Thank you.”

“But what do you like to do? What are your hobbies?” She leaned in, feigning deep intrigue.

“Oh, I’m sure I play guitar or something.”

“Oh?” She asked, sitting back and raising her eyebrows.

“Only like four chords though, and I only play shirtless and in public.”

“Will you play for me?”

“Absolutely not. Not until the fifth date. Sorry.” She laughed again, which made him smile.

He cocked his head suddenly. He could hear, in the distance, the crashing of bombs. It was the first time any of this felt real. His heart pounded, and he stared at her with a sense of sober urgency.

“I have to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you give me the benefit of the doubt if I asked you at what date you think it’s appropriate to kiss somebody?” She paused suddenly, staring at him. His face had a sort of twisted expression. She was jarred by the emotion it held.

Her eyes fluttered as she leaned in. His hand found the side of her face, his thumb tracing that slight dimple. She tasted fruity and bitter, like expensive Merlot.

He recalled a long time ago, when their relationship was young and he was obsessed with her. She had asked if she could try that Merlot in his cupboard, but he sheepishly denied.

He was saving it, he said.

Their lips parted, and he rested his forehead against hers and started humming softly. He placed his hands on her shoulders and they swayed together.

“You always were good at that.” Her voice was soft.

“I’ve really missed you,” he whispered. She pulled away from him, slightly.

“Why now? I still had a phone when the city wasn’t hours away from being blown up, you know.” She stared down at her lap. He sighed deeply, and gently picked up her hand and began massaging her palm.

“I don’t want to ruin this with words. You know I was never good at that. I just want to be with you now. I just want you to know I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He kissed her knuckle. “I never wanted anything more than a second first date with you, you know? I wish I could go back in time and smack myself. I’m sorry.” The bombs were getting closer.

“You know,” she chuckled, “I’ve been waiting for that text for a long time. I just wish we had more time now.”

“Let’s pretend we do.” She stared up at him.

“Alright.”

“Let’s pretend we were meant to be.” She nodded and leaned in for another kiss.

He still wore the same cologne. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or that scent that made her feel so intoxicated. He pulled away and soaked her in.

“You wanna finish that wine?” She nodded. They both felt the Earth starting to shake.

He grabbed the bottle from the table, which only had a little left, and took a careless swig before passing it to her.

There was a bright white light outside the window.

He moved his chair quickly and pulled her into him, holding her head to his chest. They closed their eyes. The light grew brighter and brighter.

He held her tightly.