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Short Story | Red Wine And Pizza

By Eddlynn Jennifer Mangaoang


Please do not repost or copy to another site. Thank you. Enjoy reading.

     Amihan’s best friend, Tala, phoned her at 2:27 am to come to her one-room condo unit, crying, after her asshole boyfriend broke up with her through a cold text message with only a “Let’s break up” and no explanation, not even a ridiculous one like “I can’t stand your smelly feet.”

     Since she’s an awesome friend living just two doors down the hallway, Amihan rang Tala’s doorbell 3 minutes after she received the call, with a box of opened Kleenex and a bottle of Stella Rosa Red, the one that promised of bringing out a person’s inner femme fatale.

     When Tala quietly opened the door for Amihan, Tala’s disturbing state emerged. Her friend’s hair was similar to a bird’s nest. Her bloodshot eyes were misty with streaks of dried tears visible on her pale cheeks. Amihan hurriedly closed the door and grasped Tala’s hand, tugging her into a much-needed embrace. The warmth Amihan shared with her caused Tala to break into continuous racking sobs that sounded so painful, Amihan also began to cry with her.

     “Why? Why?” Tala whimpered against Amihan’s wet white t-shirt. Amihan only held her tighter.

     After calming Tala down, Amihan guided the other into her blue couch and offered her a tissue, “Here, dry your tears and wipe your snot.”

     Amihan relocated to the kitchen to get two wine glasses from the kitchen cabinet. She inserted her head at the open fridge and meticulously chose a leftover pizza from Tala’s countless vegetable salad boxes, heating it up. She set her findings on the low table of the homely living room and popped the wine bottle’s cap with a twist, then poured half and handed it to Tala who took it quietly. Amihan poured another glass for herself as she sat next to her girl.

     The silence in the room was suffocating and a bit dreary.

     “I don’t know what happened,” Tala started after a while. “We met for lunch today… or was it yesterday?”

     Amihan stayed quiet, sipping at her wine surreptitiously.

     “But I should’ve seen it coming?” she blinked at the distance like she was in a trance, remembering something that only she knew and somewhere Amihan has never been. “He would refuse my invitations during weekends and never replies to my messages for days. When we do go out, he always looks bored or impatient, never offering to pay for our meals, and drops me without a kiss or a goodbye like he used to.

     “It’s not that  hard to tell me the reason he’s been cold, right?” She turned around to meet Amihan’s eyes. Amihan’s right hand trembled from the wounded soul she saw in there, so she placed the glass on the table.

     “I say,” Amihan started, clasping her hands onto her lap, “that you have to ask for another chance to meet him if only so you can talk to him about the break-up.”

     “Why should I though?” The bitter glare Tala gave Amihan surprised her, but she understood the hurt behind her voice. “Why should I have to beg for another meet-up from him? Why couldn’t he break up with me when we had lunch together? Why?”

     “Duh? So he can answer your questions?” Amihan asked sarcastically. “Frenny, you can cry all you want, sulk all you want, but you’ll never get your answers from me. Unless you want me to ask him for you. Do you want that?”

     “No.”

     “Then you gotta ask him. If you never want to meet him again, then call him. Fuck it! Imma call him for you,” Amihan reached for Tala’s phone, but she quickly snatched it back with a push.

     “NO!”

     Amihan rolled her eyes as she sat back properly. “If you don’t want to do that, then continue staring at your potted plant for all I care. But, frenny, remember this, no matter what decision you’ll have- if you confront him publicly, shout at him through phone, or whatever- please, please move on. He does not deserve you, okay?”

     Tala nodded.

     Silence.


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