Ralph stood paralyzed for an eternity.
Yet his speakerphone call kept ringing insistently.
His brother kept shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Ralph? You still there? Didn’t answer me yet–did you see Diana?”
“The Perezes always claim their daughter’s sick, so they never bring Diana out. Barely anyone knows what she looks like. I’m dying to know.”
“Ralph, say something! Did you see Diana or not?”
Ralph finally snapped back to reality, stiffly lowering his head as he forced the word through clenched teeth: “No.”
His buddy sounded shocked: “You didn’t see Diana? Then who’d you
see?”
Ralph stayed silent for a long moment before slowly closing his eyes.
…Saw my grandma.”
His buddy: Huh?
I:…
Inside the private room of the Interactive Dining Shareable Broth Bar.
The Provençal Tomato Broth Fondue bubbled with rising steam.
00:50)
Diana and Ralph sat facing each other.
Our marriage license appointment got postponed.
Because right after hanging up the phone, he’d shut his eyes and slapped
himself twice–hard.
So hard his face swelled, unfit for cameras now.
And at this moment,
the tips of his ears flushed crimson.
Whether from the slapping or something else, who knew?
He’d trailed behind me in a daze since it happened, not uttering a word. until we sat down.
Now he stared at the plates on the table with remorse,
as if trying to burn holes through them.
I waved a hand before his eyes: “Ralph?”
Ralph jolted back to attention.
His gaze lingered on my face for a second before darting away.
He grabbed the bottle off the table and started gulping frantically.
Mumbling through the liquid:
“Wha–what’s up?”
I paused briefly: “That’s sesame oil.”
3607
Ralph froze, his face turning pale: “… Ptooey! Ack–ack–ack… hurl hurl
hurl.”
After he finished retching, I spoke again: “Nothing major. Just wondering -should we still get rings?”
Ralph blinked, his voice firm yet tinged with quiet hope:
“Well, of course we-”
I waved him off, rummaging through my bag:
“Okay, just a moment… Aha! Found it.”
Ralph’s eyes instantly lit up, his hidden hands nervously twisting the hem
of his shirt.
Then.
Under his expectant gaze,
I pulled out that contract, flipped it open with force, and pointed at a
page.
“Oh dear, I almost forgot! It says right here that we don’t need to wear wedding rings.”
Ralph’s smile vanished instantly.