Dessert First!

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“You look really beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you! You don’t look half bad yourself.”
“Please. I look ravishing.”
“Is there really no end to it?”
“No end to what?”
“To your narcissism.”
“None that you can find, at least.”

*Awkward Laughter*

“So, why are you here today?”
“For the wedding.”
“No, I mean, who’s getting married?”
“The bride and the groom. Obviously.”
“Uhh. Why do I even try?”
“You should know.”
“I should.’
“You know what? Let’s go have some snacks.”
“I want to check out the sweets corner first.”
“To save room for later?”
“No. Don’t you remember? It’s been my rule forever. Dessert first.”
“Yeah. I remember. But I never really got that, you know? I mean, why do you do that?”
 “I don’t know. I just don’t like the idea of eating food that I don’t want to eat when I have desserts waiting for me. And what if I die before getting to my favourite part of the food? I won’t like dying knowing that I deliberately placed desert at the end of my food chain because of main courses I don’t like as much.”
“You’re weird.”
“So are you. You know what? Have dessert with me first. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
“Just this once. I promise I won’t ask you again.”
“There’s going to be an again?”
 “Dessert calling!”

* * *

“It looks good. For later.”
“No. Now. What do you want to begin with?”
“You mean starters for desserts?”
“Kind of. What do you expect?”
“Anything but this.”
“I’m going to have the chocolate soufflé first. What about you?”
“Umm, the chocolate cake.”
“No, no. That’s not dessert starters. That’s dessert dessert.” 
“What? What do you want me to have then?”
“Try the macaroons. They’re always amazing.”
“Fine. You want to go sit there?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”

* * *

“So, how long has it been?”
“How long has what been?”
“You know, since the breakup.”
“You make it sound like the holocaust.”
“Well, it was terrible.”
“I’m over it now.”
“Sure? Because it was pretty intense.”
“It’s been seven months. I’m sure.”
“The macaroons are really good, you know?”
“I do. They’re my go- to food.”
“Wasn’t it donuts?”

“It was. Things change.”
“Mine’s pasta.”
“I know. White sauce?”
“Red. White’s boring.”
“Sometimes, boring is good.”
“Nah. I don’t like the boring. It’s just not me.”
“I mean, boring keeps you sane. There’s only too much of drama you can take.”
“There is. But I’ve gotten pretty used to it now.”
“Too much of it?”
“You could’ve said that a few months ago.”
“I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”
‘Nah, it’s okay. I’m over it now.”
“Yeah, that’s great. I mean, there are times you think that once you’re in, you’re in for good and you can’t leave. And you don’t really realize that you could step out at any moment you want. It takes time. But you get used to it. I mean, it’s the new normal for us, isn’t it?”
“I stopped following that at ‘yeah’.”
“I figured so. Sometimes, I zone out easy as well.”
“I can see that.”
“Wait, how long do you think till that girl right there in those pencil heels topples over?”
“40 seconds max.”
“I’m betting 30.”


“Guess we’re both wrong.”
“That must have hurt.”
“I think her dress just tore as well.”
“Perfect moment for a wardrobe malfunction, don’t you think?”
“Flawless. Wait, isn’t she the bride’s sister?”
“I guess. Why?”
“She asked me out once.”
“What? When?”
“We met for this function a couple of years ago. Guess, she didn’t know we were related then.”
“Wow. What’d you say?”
“I said no. I wasn’t interested.”
“Way to be blunt.”
“Well, yeah. I’m done with this. Now some actual food please?”
“Hey! This was actual food.”
“Not in my world. Let’s go.”

*Actual Food?*

“I still want that chocolate truffle though.”
“We’ll have some later. What do you want to have now?”
“I don’t know. You pick out something, and then we can split.”
“Sounds cool. Just don’t penetrate my side.”
“What do you think I am? Of course I won’t.”
“We’re having pizza then.”
“Intense decisions. I want mine with oregano.”
“I don’t think they have oregano here.”
“Fine. Onions, it is then.”
“Weren’t you allergic to them?”
“I’m allergic to Olives. Not onions. How do you know though?”
“You told me some time ago.”
“That was years ago. I’m shocked that you even remember that.”
“What can I say? I have a good memory.”
“And the narcissist strikes again.”
“That’s not narcissism. I was just answering your question.”
“Somehow, everything you do is narcissistic.”
‘You have severe problems, you know?”
“Whatever. Look, the Pizza’s ready.”
“Dibs on the right side.”
“Uhh. I was going to pick that one.”
“I know.”
“This is not enough cheese.”
“This is delicious. Just eat.”

*Awkward Silence*

“I cared, you know?”
“I cared for you. I always did.”
“Why are you saying this now?”
“Because I don’t think you know.”
“Your actions spoke just the contrary back then. Why will I believe this?”
“I don’t know if you will. But that’s the truth. I just wanted you to know.”

* * *

“I always hoped that you’d care. Everyone told me you didn’t. But I didn’t believe them. I fought them. I fought them for you. I fought for you, you know?”
“No. Listen. I did believe in you. I really did. Even when every single one of them told me not to. Especially when everyone told me not to. I changed myself. I fixed myself. I did everything I could. Just for you.”
“Emm, please…”
“You never saw that, did you? You never realized what I did for you. What lengths I went to. What lengths I was ready to go to. 
But, that day, the day you left, it broke me. You broke me. You changed me. You tore me apart. You made me lose myself. 
And I always thought that it was all my fault.
Maybe it was. Trusting you was my fault. Believing in you was my fault. Loving you was my fault.”
“Emm, please don’t say that. I really did care. I always did. And I always will. Please, believe me.”
“No. You cannot ask that of me now. After everything you’ve done and after everything you made me go through, you’re asking me to believe you?  
I loved you. More than I loved myself. 
And, you sold me out. 
I have to go now. 
Coming here was a mistake tonight.”
“Emm, I’m sorry.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I’m really, very sorry.”



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