Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Winnifred: Pretzel says hi.
Soren: I thought we agreed you’re not ready for a dog.
Winnifred: He’s imaginary, Soren. He thrives on chaos and emotional avoidance. He’s basically us.
Soren: Does he bark in passive-aggressive tones?
Winnifred: No, he judges with his eyes. Like your mother.
Soren: Just emailed you the fake itinerary for Thanksgiving.
Winnifred: I don’t open PDFs from men. I’m fake-dating.
Soren: It’s color-coded.
Winnifred: . . . I’ll consider it.
Winnifred: I had a dream last night that you were a turkey, and I had to baste you for The Wolfcraft Howler.
Soren: I’ve never been more horrified or aroused.
Winnifred: Welcome to my subconscious.
Soren: Does Pretzel baste dream-me too?
Winnifred: Pretzel has boundaries. You don’t.
Soren: My mother sent me an article titled “Preparing for Fatherhood: How to Swaddle Without Panic.”
Winnifred: At least it’s not “How to Fake a Pregnancy Without Breaking a Sweat.”
Soren: That’s probably in next week’s issue.
Winnifred: You’re welcome for the headlines.
Winnifred: I’ve started decorating my house like we’re deep into November. Do you want me to do the same with yours?
Soren: It’s October.
Winnifred: Time is a construct. Pumpkin spice is eternal.
Soren: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but . . . what’s the Halloween plan?
Winnifred: I thought you said you wouldn’t be here.
Soren: I won’t, but if anyone asks, I have to have an answer.
Winnifred: Couples costume or bust.
Soren: Define “bust.”
Winnifred: Matching outfits, one photo op, and at least three people who say, “You two are adorable.”
Soren: What if I dress as emotional detachment?
Winnifred: That’s not a costume. That’s your aura.
Soren: I’m not going to be there, How can we fix that.
Winnifred: I’ll doctor the pictures as long as you buy what we need. You’re not escaping Halloween.
Soren: I’m literally in another country.
Winnifred: And yet, I can still feel your eye roll from here.
Soren: I booked my flight back.
Winnifred: Window or aisle?
Soren: First class.
Winnifred: You bougie coward.
Soren: I also booked yours to Boston, where we’ll drive to Birchwood Springs together.
Winnifred: Soren.
Soren: You deserve legroom. And soup not served in plastic.
Winnifred: I can’t accept first class.
Soren: Then pretend it’s business emotional reparations.
Winnifred: . . . Fine. But I’m bringing three different scarves and judging everyone who doesn’t call me “Madame.”
Soren: You’d do that in coach, too.
Winnifred: Never, but I want to get into character.
Soren: Don’t. Please act normal—or as normal as you can. Also, What does one bring to a Friendsgiving with strangers and maple syrup?
Winnifred: Souvenirs from London, of course.
Winnifred: Aiden texted. She asked if you were “the one who kissed her like a man with secrets.”
Soren: I am a man with secrets.
Winnifred: Your secret is that you like romantic comedy movies, and you cried when the ficus died.
Soren: Is our baby ficus dead?
Winnifred: No, I’m talking about the fictional one in the movies.
Soren: Don’t play with our ficus. You better send me proof of life.
Winnifred: There, it’s perfectly fine.
Soren: I might order another ficus.
Winnifred: You’re trying to apologize with photosynthesis again.
Soren: I speak fluent flora.
Winnifred: What if I told you I bought a fake engagement ring for the photoshoot?
Soren: We’re not faking an engagement, Win. If we do, they’ll be marrying us during our stay in Winterberry. It’s like you don’t know our families.
Winnifred: They hate each other too much to want that in our future.
Winnifred: I told my cousin Nell that we went to a poetry reading.
Soren: You liar, stop making up stuff that’ll never happen.
Winnifred: No, YOU read poetry to ME. You wept. There was lighting.
Soren: Do I at least have a scarf?
Winnifred: You ARE the scarf. It’s a metaphor, Soren.
Soren: Did I mention I got an email from my grandma? She wants to knit us matching mittens—for you and our child.
Winnifred: You told her there’s no baby, right?
Soren: I told her you like sage green.
Winnifred: You need to stop the rumors.
Soren: I will when you stop telling people we Patrick Swayze at the local pottery shop—I don’t even know what that is, Win.
Winnifred: We’ll stream Ghost, but then we’ll have to do the video for our social media.
Soren: I’m starting to regret this relationship.
Winnifred: You love it. It’s the best you’ve had in years.
Soren: Can we take a moment to discuss our real future?
Winnifred: Fine, be boring. What happens if we actually pull this off?
Winnifred: Then we fake our breakup in January, and I keep the ficus in the settlement.
Soren: What do I get?
Winnifred: Emotional growth?
Winnifred: What if I forget this is fake?
Soren: Then I’ll remember for both of us.
Winnifred: Don’t you dare be tender with me.
Soren: Too late. I’ll be the most tender. Wait until I see you again. I will be the best boyfriend in the world.
Soren: You okay over there?
Winnifred: No. I might fall in love with you at fifty percent if you continue this trend.
Soren: Fifty percent sounds oddly specific.
Winnifred: I can’t help it. What are you going to do if I get to one hundred percent?
Soren: I’ll probably have to catch up—unless I’m already there.
Winnifred: I need to work and leave you with your nonsense. Text tomorrow?
Soren: I’ll try, but it’s going to be a long day.