Marcie was walking alone in the barely lit street, her short stature enveloped in the chilly breeze. Around her, the snow was starting to accumulate; she sped up her pace not wanting to let the snowfall halt her. Her frail body was shivering and her heart was pounding.
She was heading to Charles' apartment for the first time since she proposed to him. "What a folly!" she thought "how come she was able to ask him such an important question without even taking the time to reflect".
As she walked onwards, she remembered the details of this peculiar proposal. She could see herself, sitting nervously on Charles 'sofa, blushing awkwardly for a few seconds before asking him the fatidic question without even stuttering, just like if she was compelled to ask him on this very moment.
Charles and her had never even been actually "dating", except if one could call taking a cold meal while mundanely chatting "dating" ", yet a part of her knew there would be no way he would refuse her request, he was so fearful of possibly hurting her.
Marcie felt somewhat repentant of having played with his feelings in this way. She knew that Charles would never love her the same way as she does yet she was surprisingly content with the way things went.
Charles was the only thing she had ever wanted since her childhood and now, more than 30 years later, she had him. She kept trying to convince herself that in the long run she will get him to love her, or at least not hate her too much.
Marcie soon arrived in front of the banal apartment block in which Charles lived. The view of its dull brick walls made her hope that Charles would accept to move to her place rather than the other way around.
She wiped out her mist-covered glasses and entered the building, anxious to see Charles.
As she prepared to enter his apartment, a pressing uneasiness took her by storm: what if Charles had changed his mind, what if he realized that agreeing to get engaged with her was a senseless and hasty decision? The thought of this eventuality made Marcie cower in fear as she lightly knocked on the door.
Charles opened the door, almost immediately after the second knock, Marcie could barely stand watching him in the eyes, the tired and shifty eyes that she loved so well.
She stood in the half-open doorway and hesitantly offered her hand to Charles, unready to greet him with a kiss. He sluggishly shook her hand and invited her in.
Charles' studio apartment looked nearly as austere as his life. Each time she visited it, Marcie was astonished at the nearly improbable absence of furniture.
The only items present in the wide and empty room were a fridge, a table; two chairs, a TV set, a sofa and a single bed.
Apart from an old photograph featuring a young Charles playing with his long-gone dog, Charles did not possess any other piece of decoration; so much so that the sight of his apartment would make one wonder if someone actually lived here.
Marcie and Charles stood in front of each other, neither of them seemingly willing to make the first move, after a few minutes Charles awkwardly asked "How was your day?"
"Quite good, thank you, what about yours?" Marcie replied "Not that bad. Care for a drink?" Charles said, desperately trying to appear courteous "Oh thank you. Do you have lemonade?" Marcie did not even know why she had asked for lemonade; maybe she thought that the sparkling and sweet taste of the drink would help her break the cold monotony of the discussion she was now having with Charles and remind the two of them of their long-gone childhood.
Charles silently poured her a glass before methodically proceeding to sit back in front of her.
Marcie took a small sip of her drink, feeling eerily small as she sank into her chair, not even daring to say a word anymore. After a lengthy hesitation, Charles finally decided to break this cumbersome code of silence
"I reflected about your proposal from last night. I am still fine with it." he plainly said
"Oh. You are. I... I can't tell how happy I am." Marcie hesitantly replied. Under any other circumstances, the prospect of finally being assured of her engagement with Charles would have made her cry from relief and bliss however the cold and emotionless tone which Charles used made her slightly bemused.
"Normally" she thought "shouldn't enamored couples who are announcing to each other their engagement be at least a tad more enthusiastic." But she knew that Charles and she were far from being a typical couple.
"You know, Charles we don't have to do that if you don't want. I don't know why I asked that to you, it must have been a moment of madness." She unwillingly said, feeling far too guilty about the prospect of condemning Charles to a monotone marriage alongside her.
"I am sincere, Marcie. I have thought deeply about it and I want to marry you." Charles promptly answered with desperate resolution. He cracked an uneasy smile and took out of his pocket a tiny velvet box.
"Charles you should not have done this!" Marcie cried, blushing from both shame and relief.
Charles took the wedding band in his hands, a silver ring mounted by a dark emerald. He kneeled, almost mechanically and handed it to Marcie.
"Marcie will you marry me?" he said in a deadpan voice
"Charles, I can't do that you know it." Marcie sighed, sobbing from confusion
"Marcie, you were the one who first raised this possibility! What is on your mind?" Charles exclaimed, definitely dazzled by Marcie's indecisiveness.
"I know Charles. I just don't want to inflict that on you. I know that it is not what you wanted…"
"I want it Marcie. I am sincere!" Charles asserted, trying his best to pass of as earnest.
"So I want it too" Marcie contritely confessed. She stood up from her chair and took Charles' bony body in her arms.
"I love you Charles. I always did." She whispered
"I… I love you too Marcie."
Marcie closed her eyes, her lips slowly brushing Charles' in a brief embrace. She would never have expected their first kiss to be so… cold.
Once their embrace was finished, she went and sat in Charles' sofa without uttering a single word. Her whole mind felt blurry. Charles sat alongside her and took her hand, stiffly caressing it. Marcie rested her head on his shoulder and erupted in tears. The two of them stayed like this for the remaining of the night: Marcie crying abundantly while Charles remained petrified, not knowing how to comfort her.
So went their first night together, a trying first taste of their future marriage.
