Love in his Lie

Proposal

"Okay," she said, drawing out the vowels and handing me the water with hesitation. She kept her distance as if I might be a rabid animal about to bite her. Or it could have been the terrible smell of puke and bile clinging to me.

"L-look," I stuttered, taking the water with shaky hands, "I'm going to take a shower and clean this ick off of me, and use the time to think."

"Sounds good to me." Mindy took a step back after having done her duty of getting me a glass of water. She turned her head and took a deep breath of what was hopefully fresher air. Then she returned her attention to me, her face pale and pained with a stiff smile. "I think I'm just going to go close up that wine and put it away. I don't think either of us needs any more of that tonight."

I gave her an apologetic nod before pulling myself off the floor and closing the door. After spending some time cleaning up the bathroom, I hopped into a steaming shower and burned the alcohol from my skin. By the time I emerged cleansed and refreshed, I had little doubt that my memories were true. The queasy feeling in my stomach was no longer thanks to the wine.

"All right," said Mindy, handing me a hot cup of tea as I took a seat on the sofa, "now that you are clean and sober, why don't you tell me what it is you remember."

"It was the wine," I sighed, blowing my breath over the steaming cup.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Maybe we should spend a bit more money next time, so even a lightweight like you can last a few more glasses."

"No," I said, massaging my temple. "The wine helped, like, unlock a part of my memory. You know what they say about smell being the strongest link to your memories, well I haven't had wine since that night and something about having a few glasses and feeling kind of drunk helped me recall what happened."

"And do you actually remember what happened, or do you just think you remember?" she asked. Though her tone often fluctuated between serious and teasing, the concern was evident in her question.

"No, I'm sure I remember it. Once I snagged at the pieces, it all kind of fell into place."

"So let's have it then. Hit me with the dirty details."

"Like I said, he spotted me at the bar and offered to buy my next drink. So he got both of us glasses of wine. Had I not already had a few, I would have had the clarity to not accept the drink. That way, I would have been reasonable when talking to him. However, nerves and my already quick descent into drunkenness killed the logical part of me. Anyway, he could tell I was upset."

"Really?" sighed Mindy. "Is it really so bad I went on a date? One that didn't even end up with a hug good night?"

"I'm sorry." I groaned with the throbbing of my head, which made me incapable of feeling embarrassment at that point. "But I felt so down since I haven't had a proper date in almost a year. Add on me not bothering to find someone to date because I'm obsessed with a customer who I feel morally obligated to keep as a customer, and I'm just downright depressed."

"Okay, fair enough. Continue."

"Anyway, he saw I was upset, and he was a bit upset himself. He thought we could drown in our misery together. Now I don't remember the specifics of the conversation because I think we were both being dodgy about our reasons. I said something like I was disappointed in my social life, because I obviously couldn't tell him the truth and say I'm a lonely young woman looking for love, specifically his love. He, on the other hand, said something about how complicated relationships are. So we kind of went in that vague direction of conversation about how everything is so hard nowadays and that things were easier when you married your high school sweetheart and lived to celebrate seventy years of marriage together.

"That's when he said something like..." I swallowed and looked down into my mug. The steam moistened my cheeks, and I took a tentative sip. After letting the warm liquid coat my ragged throat, I continued. "He said that it would be easier if I was his fiancee."

"What now?" asked Mindy, a sardonic laugh shaking her words.

"He said that life would be easier if I were his fiancee."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," I said, keeping my eyes trained upon the golden brown water in my cup, "I took it to mean that it would be easier to just skip the trouble of dating and courting and what not and just be with someone that you like. And since, you know, I like him and I agreed with the sentiment..."

"Well, that's the most unromantic proposal I've ever heard of." Mindy got up off the couch and retrieved the wine she had stashed, deciding that the night could perhaps use one more mug full. At least one more mug full for her.

"Maybe you had to be there."

"You sure he didn't laugh afterward and say, 'well too bad it's not that simple' or 'maybe when you're forty and I'm forty and we're both still single, then...' kind of thing?"

"No, I remember it clearly, because his smile was just so pure and warm. He looked at me, his eyes disappearing behind the rise of his dimpled cheeks, his teeth a bright white though tinged with a bit of his red wine, and he said, 'I guess that seals it then.'"

"Nope, didn't need to be there. It was definitely not romantic."

"You had to hear how he said it."

"So wait," she said, returning to her seat, sitting with one leg folded beneath the other as she turned to face me, "are you saying that now that you remember this so-called proposal, you're okay with it?"

"I mean, I... I guess..."

"That sounds convincing."

"I mean, I've always liked him. My heart skipped a beat the moment I saw him."

"Well," said Mindy, sliding back into the couch, resting her head against the top of the cushion as she looked up to the ceiling, "I did know this girl in high school, her parents got married three days after meeting one another. It wasn't an arranged marriage or anything—they just knew. And as far as I'm aware, they're still married. That means they're going on somewhere around thirty years together."

"So, you are okay with this?"

"Only if you are." She turned her head and watched me from the side of her eye.

"I mean, it's just, what if all I've ever felt for him was like lust or something and not love? It's hard to know the difference."

"Well, that's probably something you should discuss with him before you walk down the aisle." A Cheshire cat grin tore open her face, and it took every bit of willpower to keep me from grabbing one of the throw pillows and slapping her across the cheek with it.

"You aren't helpful," I said, rising to my feet and depositing my unfinished tea onto the table. "I'm going to bed."

"Hey, don't be upset," she called to my back as I headed for my room. "I'm still invited to the wedding, right?"