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We'd still wake up next to each other. You'd wake up first like you always did. As the morning sun pierces the curtains, I'd curl into you unconsciously, shielding myself. You'd smile unto yourself silently, embracing me. We'd be a tangle of messy hair, blankets and warmth.
You'd be the first one to get up from the bed.
"We'll be late", you'd say.
"Can't we just take a day off? Go for a picnic maybe? It'd be our first date after getting married" , I'd suggest.
"Sure honey", you'd say laughing.
I'd wake up next and start making tea. After a while, you'd come out of the shower, all steam and water drops. Gently sipping my tea, I'd look at you.
"What are you looking at, missus?" you'd say with pretend innocence.
"Only my favorite person in the world" I'd laugh.
You'd start to prepare breakfast asking me if eggs and toast would do. I'd oblige happily. After me showering and getting dressed, we'd have breakfast together. We'd chatter mindlessly about what we would do that evening.
"Cozy Friday night at home? " You'd suggest.
"Add a bottle of wine and I'm sold" I'd tell you.
"Sounds like a plan" You'd finalize.
Hurriedly, we'd pack our laptops as we'd be getting late. After a quick goodbye, you'd go your own way and I'd go mine. All along the way to my workplace, I'd think of you and our perfect life.
Maybe that was the point when the universe decided no one deserved to be that happy.
I'd have a hectic morning at work and I'd text you about it.
"I'm coming to pick you up for lunch in half an hour. Sounds good?", You'd text back.
"Sounds great", I'd reply.
We'd go for lunch together.
"I know this place around the corner. Nice and cozy and the food is amazing too" You'd say.
"Then, why are you only just deciding to tell me ?" I'd ask.
"It was a bachelor's secret" You'd cheekily reply.
I would playfully punch you in the arm and you'd pretend to have gotten hurt. I'd roll my eyes.
We'd have pasta and smoothie. I'd tell you the place wasn't half bad. You would smile. And then as fate would have it, you'd lose the balance on your fork and stain your shirt. I'd gasp loudly like it was the end of the world. You'd curse at it and then attempt to clean up. It would only remain a defeated attempt.
At that point, our lunch breaks would have been close to over. We'd get out of the restaurant and hastily say our farewell. You'd try to get me pumped to go back to work. I'd just brush you off and remind you to get the wine on your way back home.
As we'd go our separate ways, unlike the first time, I would turn back to look at you and mouth 'I love you'. I'm sure you would've mouthed back 'I love you' at me too.
Because the next time would be different. The next time I see you, the red blotch on your shirt would have been splattered with blood. The next time I see you, you wouldn't see me anymore.
If I had one more day with you, I'd want to spend every second of the day with you...but not really.
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