Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Winnifred: I bought us matching costumes.
Soren: I said no tights.
Soren: If this involves suspenders or fanny packs, we’re done.
Winnifred: You wish. We’re going as Ross and Rachel—their 80s era.
Soren: Wait, is it 90s or 80s? I’m confused.
Winnifred: It’s both. Send me your address so I can have this shipped to you by tomorrow.
Soren: I’ll have my assistant send you a courier
Winnifred: Courier? Where do you work? Someone told me you’re a gazillionaire and live in a mansion.
Soren: Do I live in a mansion, Win?
Winnifred: I almost told them it was a lie, but then I’d have to tell them we’re neighbors, and they might realize this is all fake.
Soren: Good call. I ordered you a candy bouquet.
Winnifred: Are you wooing me?
Soren: I’m buying us more credibility. You can post that on your social media next to our baby ficus.
Winnifred: I’ll fake-swoon when it arrives. Do you think I should buy a costume for Pretzel?
Soren: Pretzel isn’t real.
Winnifred: Then who’s wearing this tiny cape and judgmental frown?
Soren: Win, tell me you didn’t adopt a dog.
Winnifred: Only because that would imply finding a sitter for Thanksgiving. Do you know how hard it is to find one?
Soren: I remember you being a hot commodity during the holidays.
Winnifred: Exactly. When we adopt a puppy, it’s because we’ll have a reliable helper.
Winnifred: What’s your stance on pumpkin carving as emotional catharsis?
Soren: I’m pro-carving, anti-crying-on-gourds. Are we carving pumpkins?
Winnifred: I am. You obviously are on the other side of the Atlantic, missing me and trying to figure out how to spend Halloween with me from a distance.
Soren: Is that our official couple’s statement?
Winnifred: Yes, try to keep up with my email updates.
Soren: It’d help if you sent them, Win.
Soren: I keep getting tagged in “cutest couple” Halloween countdowns by my sister.
Winnifred: You’re welcome.
Soren: What does this mean?
Winnifred: We’ll be part of the family contest. We’ll win even when we’re not there.
Winnifred: I’m thinking that if we’re faking this relationship, we should at least have a fake Halloween meet-cute story.
Soren: You can only have one meet-cute, Win. We already used it. It’s over.
Winnifred: It can’t be over.
Soren: It was the moment you made up the Lucy story, or was it a lemon?
Winnifred: I . . . I don’t remember. That kiss gave me amnesia. Maybe we can come up with a new one because everyone might have forgotten.
Soren: That’s not how this works.
Winnifred: Then how does it work?
Soren: You moved next door, end of the story.
Winnifred: You fell in love slowly throughout the years?
Soren: Probably, but I never realized it until it was too late, and I had given you everything—including my heart.
Winnifred: I’m dabbing my tears. You’re a true romantic, Soren.
Soren: Somehow, I think you’re making fun of me.
Winnifred: No, but no one will buy that story.
Soren: Fine, make up a new one, but if we get caught, I’ll fake amnesia and move to Timbuktu.
Winnifred: So, how do we keep pretending without accidentally feeling more?
Soren: We don’t. We just hope our ficus survives the fallout.