Featured image by ~princessdionne from Deviantart.

“So how was your night?” I asked when I finally got to her house from a booze night with our other friends. “A hot one I assume?”

“Shut up” she said. “You should’ve said you were drunk. I shouldn’t have asked you to get here.” She was disappointed to see me quite wasted. “I wanted someone sensible to talk to, not someone to add to my worries tonight.” Still she opened the door for me and offered me a sit on the couch.

“Oh you know I’m always available dear” I said while resting my legs on the center table disarranging the centerpiece. “Day and night you got that? Day and night.”

“Oh I know right? You don’t have to say it twice. And get your feet off my centerpiece for Christ’s sake!”

She was pissed, I could tell. A woman like her could be pissed of just about everything whenever her mood tells her to. She was wearing a frown when she went to the kitchen to make us a cup of coffee.

“Hey Molly, can I sleep here in your couch tonight?” I asked while she was still busy in the kitchen.

“Stop calling me Molly!” she hollered back.

“But that’s your name sweety!”

“I know, but you’re making it sound so ugly!”

That made me laugh like crazy in her couch. Molly was a twenty three year old magazine columnist but sometimes she acted like a little girl in all her cute and innocent ways. I stood up, pushed the table and prepared my bed for the night. Molly had one of those convertible couches you see in home TV shopping. She was a fan of all things beautiful and practical to have.

“Honestly, I prefer you going home tonight. I just lost all I was about to say,” she said while setting the coffee on top of the table already placed far in the corner of her living room. She sat on the white bean bag and started stirring her coffee.

“You just try. I can’t sleep now anyway. I’ll die and they’ll call it booze overdose.” I chuckled with that. “Is that even possible Molly? I mean booze overdose?”

“You’re crazy Ernest. Coffee won’t do you any good. I guess I’ll just tell you about it in the morning,” she said.

“No, come on tell me about it now. I’m good,” I told her while stretching myself face down in the bed. “I just don’t look like it Molly. As if I ever did huh? But come on, you can tell me about it.”

She was silent but I knew she was thinking about it. She hated telling things twice because someone’s too drunk to remember it the first time. But she did tell you things over and over everyday unknowingly. In the corner of my eye I could see her looking up to the ceiling like a stupid student trying to come up with that answer that will make sense to a snooty teacher.

“Okay,” she started. “Frank finally asked me to… you know?”

“What Molly? I don’t want to think tonight,” I said as I turned to lie on my back and face the ceiling.

“He asked me to marry him earlier tonight.” She was excited the way she sounded.

“And what did you say?” I asked. We were always like that. Sometimes I just wanted her to write everything down so I could read it and won’t have to ask her those questions just so she would continue telling me what was up.

“I said I’ll think about it,” she said so excited she was already shaking her cup. “Do you think it disappointed him?” she asked quite worried. But she did not wait for my reply anymore. “But I can explain everything tomorrow,” she said partly speaking to herself. “Yes, I’ll just tell him I was so surprised I was almost speechless. It was just the first thing that came to my mind ‘cause I always answer questions that way.”

“And what do you think it would be?” I asked looking at her. I could tell she was in that dreamland again with her prince. “I mean your answer.”

“Of course it’s a ‘yes’ Ernest a big ‘yes’ to Frank,” she said recovering from her quick trip to bliss. She gave her coffee a sip before speaking again. “What else do you expect huh? Certainly it won’t be ‘no’ because Frank is…”

“… the man every woman ever wanted,” I continued for her. “He’s so perfect he sits on the right hand of the Father and he should stay there.”

“Shut up!” she glowered at me and threw a pillow on my face. “I hate you when you’re drunk.”

“Yeah ‘cause I’m Frank’s total opposite. I go for beer while he goes for expensive wines and I’ll die of cancer from cheap cigarettes. But you see? He’ll die of the same thing only from branded tobacco rolls.”

“What a bastard full of resentments you are Ernest,” she said. She drained her cup and moved to the bed. She grabbed the pillow she threw and lay on her stomach beside me. “But seriously now, I want you to be there,” she continued looking at me. I was staring at the ceiling again but I could feel her doing so. “I know brides are supposed to have maids of honor but I’ll get things arranged so I can have you instead,” she added.

“And if you fail with your arrangement?” I asked quite absent mindedly.

“Get ready to wear a dress,” she said laughing then she turned to face the ceiling herself. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, who else am I suppose to get? I don’t want just somebody to fill the place, it’s going to be my wedding and I want it to be perfect. Yes, even if it would mean having a man of honor instead of a maid,” she continued smiling as if she could see what was going to happen projected on the ceiling of her living room.

“It won’t be until months from now. Don’t be so excited Molly,” I said.

“I said stop calling me Molly that way.” I groaned when she pinched me on my side but she went on. “But sometimes I worry if he even deserves me.”

“Yes he does,” I answered briefly.

“I mean he could have someone else if he only wanted to, someone a lot more beautiful perhaps?”

“Well you’re pretty. It’s just that you have a small… you know? But at least that booty’s just right.”

“I hate you!” she turned to me. “They are better now.”

“Really? I thought your bust line hasn’t changed since we were early teens!” I said mockingly.

“No, it actually has grown a few inches Ernest. You’re just not good at looking,” she replied defending herself.

A moment of silence followed. Maybe she ran out of things to say and I was getting a little sleepy to keep the conversation going. But a thought was nagging me at the back of my mind so I gave it a try.

“But seriously Molly, are you ready? Are you sure now?” I asked.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” she asked in return.

“I mean a lot of relationships fail these days you ought to be really sure. It may not exactly be that fantasy when you finally marry him,” I reminded her.

“Of course I know that,” she said. “We’ve been together for four years now, I know him well Ernest. Don’t you worry about it.”

“Well let’s just say I don’t want your heart to break just when you got too far,” I told her.

“Such a pessimist. There will surely be difficulties but I won’t let it happen,” she said. “Besides you’ve known heartbreak from the other end, who are you to talk about that? You were never at the losing end Ernest.”

“Really? You just don’t know” I replied disapprovingly.

“Oh yes I know,” she insisted. “How many women have you left in the course of my four year relationship with Frank? Six? Seven? Eight? The last one only lasted for a week because you said she was stupid. And how many night stands did you have filthy bastard?” Her words might be a little harsh but she was just like that whenever we were in those funny awkward confrontations. She was smiling too.

“Hey hey hey lady we are supposed to talk about you,” I said.

“No this is over,” she said then turned her back on me probably to dream about Frank again. “I should not take an advice from you. You don’t know what heartbreak is.”

I know what heartbreak is Molly I said to myself. It’s when you take his hand to live a different life without me.

“Good night Ernest,” she said.

“Yes. Good night to me.”

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