"Twelfth question, how did your parents meet?" You stroke my hair gently.
"While she was waitressing," I answered. My parents used to tell us this story every Christmas I had it memorised by heart. "She tripped and spilled orange juice on his white pants."
"Oh," you said, laughing.
"I would've totally freaked out, but he didn't. He fell in love with her the moment he entered that diner." Who would have known that years later, he would fall in love with someone else? I shuddered at the thought. "How did yours meet?"
"She was hitchhiking and they immediately bonded over his music choices. They got married two months later."
"Wow," I was in disbelief.
"Incredible, huh? I guess they were soulmates."
YOU ARE READING
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Short StoryAt 00:00, Cinderella ran away from her prince, leaving a glass slipper on the marbled steps of the grand staircase. At 00:00, I ran away from him. Unlike Cinderella, I didn't leave a single thing behind. © sonderingly
