Happily Ever After

Jamie Lewis strides into Gino’s Italian Cuisine with a pep in her step the same time as Lana Keith hesitantly enters behind her. 

Each woman finds their partner almost instantly. 

Jamie’s eyes meet Scott’s and a smile erupts across her face. Lana scopes the restaurant and finds Wilson, his eyes fixed at the wire basket of bread on the table and his hands folded too professionally.

They both move to their tables, on opposite sides of the restaurant, oblivious to one another's and how their paths would oddly link in the night ahead of them. 

Jamie playfully bats her eyelashes at Scott, who pulls her chair out for her and they sit together, doing that thing that most extremely in love lovers do, the “holding hands across the table because we’re just so hopelessly in love” move. 

Meanwhile, Wilson gestures for Lana and barely regards her entrance. 

At the same time, a sentence is spoken from each pair of people. So similar, yet universes apart. 

“So, I need to talk to you about something.” Scott says to Jamie, taking a bite of bread after doing so. 

“We need to talk.” Wilson keeps no emotion in his voice and Lana shifts uncomfortably in her chair. 

Each of the women nod. One anticipating news and the other dreading it. 

The men clear their throats for opposite reasons. 

Scott searches for words and Wilson knows exactly what to say, yet his words seem to be getting caught on the way from his brain to his mouth. They’ve made a forever pit stop on Wilson’s internal express. 

As expected, Scott finds the courage to speak first. 

“Jamie, we’ve been together for three years.” He says, reaching for her other hand and giving them both a squeeze. Jamie nods, a silent gesture for him to continue. 

Wilson finally speaks, and Lana wishes the waiter would come back, obnoxiously asking if they’d want water refills or more bread. 

“So, I’ve been doing some thinking.” He says, his voice low and quiet. 

Lana gnawed on the inside of her cheek and frowned. “Yes?” 

Across Gino’s, Scott and Jamie were getting closer and closer to the moment that seemed to make the future of every iconic romance ever. 

“I love you in ways I didn’t know I could.” He continues, “I love your smile, your eyes, your personality, heck, I love your bedhead and bad breath good mornings.” 

Wilson and Lana stare at each other for a moment before Wilson speaks again. 

“And I think it may be best if we were too…” He pauses, his words trailing off. Lana stares at him impatiently, silently pleading for him to just speak. 

Scott dug into his pocket for something suspiciously ring box shaped and curled his fingers around it, preparing for his move. 

Jamie’s eyes were warm and kind when she said, “Aw, Scott! I love you too!” 

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss and when she pulled away, she could’ve sworn she saw the littlest bit of blush leaking into his mocha colored cheeks. 

The opposite seemed to be happening to poor Lana as she asked, “Yes?” 

Wilson stands up and sits back down again, clearly debating what he should do. Lana watches him carefully. What is going on? 

Jamie watched Scott fumble with his words and can’t help thinking how adorable he looks. 

Both Scott and Wilson seemed to have some odd male telepathy and decided that it was time to take action.

Wilson began to stand up again and Scott began lowering his knee to the ground when, as if on cue, a waiter appeared at each of their tables, forcing the men to return back to their seats for the time being. 

Both of the waiters spoke completely synchronized. “Hi, welcome to Gino’s. May I get us some drinks to begin?” 

Lana quitey ordered a red wine and Wilson blandly asked for a Cutty and water. 

Jamie smiled warmly at the waiter and skimmed the cocktail menu before choosing a Cosmopolitan and Scott ordered a club soda. 

The waiters scribbled down their orders and they both said, “We’ll be right out with that.” They hooked their pens back onto the pocket of their aprons and continued bustling around the restaurant

Jamie looked to Scott, who was staring at her. 

“What’re you staring at, stalker?” She asked, her smile carefree and happy. 

Scott laughed and broke off another piece of bread. “Your beautiful face, that’s all,” 

Jamie waved a hand like she was swatting a fly. “Oh, don’t be cheesy.” 

They laughed like it was their first time meeting again, fresh and happy. Not a care in the world. Specifically not a care about what was happening to Lana Keith and Wilson Davis across the restaurant. 

While Jamie and Scott threw compliments at each other willingly, Lana and Wilson struggled to find the words to fuel their conversation, and the impending doom of where their night would lead to was hanging over Lana’s head like a bounty. 

“Wilson, I really would appreciate it if you’d just come out with it.” Lana muttered, and their waiter gracefully placed their drinks on the table. Lana gratefully took a swig of wine to pass time while Wilson stared at the murky whiskey. 

Lana shook her head, “Bathroom.” She grumbled before getting up from the table, and clutching her small handbag till the material dug into her skin and her fingers turned white. 

Scott began to say something on the other side of the restaurant, but Jamie cut him off with a small smile. “Would it be awful if I said I need to use the restroom?” 

Scott laughed and took a gentle sip of his drink, “Not at all.” 

Jamie smiled again and grabbed her phone, leaving her purse hooked on the back of her chair. Jamie vaguely remembered Lana’s face from when they walked into the restaurant at the same time. 

Lana and Jamie walked into stalls next to each other. Jamie checked updates on social media while leaning against the walls of the stall and replied to some emails from work. Lana, on the other hand was texting an SOS to her best friend, who was urgently asking for updates on everything. 

Jamie walked out first, hastily washing her hands and heading back to the table, where Scott had ordered small appetizers. 

Lana stayed an extra few minutes getting advice from her best friend to “just make him come out with it.” 

Finally, Lana left and the women were returned to their tables. Both Wilson and Scott noticed the gap in time that the waiters had left and decided to make the move. 

Scott began first, and Jamie’s eyes lit up and her cheeks turned red. “Scott?” She asked carefully as he got down on one knee and began the long and teary eyed sentimental speech. 

“Jamie, I love you so much. I love everything about us, and I want to be yours forever. I’ll never break your heart and I’ll never leave your side.” He cleared his throat as Jamie covered her face with her hands, happy tears streaming out from the seams of her fingers. 

“I fell for you the second we met, and your parents feel like my own. Our relationship makes me the happiest man on Earth and I would give anything if I could be at your side all day. It pains me to leave you and I want to spend every minute of every day being yours. What better way to do that than to marry you?”

Scott flashed a smile and finished his speech: “So, Jamie Lewis, will you marry me?” 

Scott pulled the velvet box out of his pocket and opened it with straining fingers. The light fell on the ring like a perfect spotlight and Jamie cried into her hands, before nodding almost imperceptibly. Scott slid the ring onto her finger and they hugged and kissed and received a loud round of applause from the people around them. 

“I love you! I love you!” Jamie squealed into Scott’s shoulder as he spun her around. 

Lana’s eyes diverted across the steaming pizza oven at the happy couple who embraced each other, and knew yet was still unaware how terribly opposite their nights would go. 

Wilson cleared his throat, calling Lana’s attention back to him. 

“Please just talk.” She said, taking another sip of her drink. 

Wilson sighed, “Fine. Here it is. I think we should get divorced.” 

Lana felt all air leave her lungs. It wasn’t surprising, but it still hurt. Like getting punched in the gut, you can see your opponent's fist slowly make its way to contact your body, and you know it’s going to happen. Yet it hurts the most when it finally lands. 

Lana pursed her lips and swallowed the sour taste on her tongue. “Why?” She muttered, downing her wine in one gulp and shouldering her purse. 

She was ready to leave but wanted to stay to watch the look on Wilson’s face. The look she so badly wanted to slap off. “Why?” She asked again, louder this time. 

Wilson patted the air as a signal for Lana to calm down. “Lana. Please, let’s just talk about this.” 

Lana scoffed, “Talk about this? Talk? You think I want to talk to you, when all I do is sit at home and think about you? I make food for you, I ask about your day, but you tell me to shut up, and leave you alone so you can work.” 

Wilson looked around warily and people around them were beginning to glance and whisper. “Lana, you’re being ridiculous.” He whispered, but Lana stood up. 

“Oh no, Wilson. I’m not being anything, because I’m too busy cooking for and feeding our two children, did you ever think about them? Or were you too busy on the phone?” Lana’s voice had raised to a shout at people around them emitted gasps when she said that. 

“Lana, calm down!” Wilson boomed, and Lana immediately sat, tears streaming down her face. She sobbed into a napkin and didn’t dare to look at Wilson. 

“I’m just the girl you took in. You found me tired and hungry. Took me in, and fell in love with me.” Lana whispered, and Wilson stared down at his lap. 

“Everyone was so excited when they heard that Wilson Davis was getting married.” Lana said between shaky sobs. She wasn’t even sure if Wilson was still listening, and frankly, she didn’t care. 

“But everyone was so disappointed when they found out it wasn’t some celebrity, or princess. Just me. Street rat, boring old me.” Lana blew her nose into the napkin and Wilson finally spoke. “I did love you, you know.” 

Lana looked up from the soft cloth of the fancy napkin she was ruining. “What?” 

“I loved you. I really did. But fire doesn’t last forever, Lana. Our flame just burnt out.” He spoke softly and soothingly. 

Lana was aware of all the whispers and looks that they were getting from around them, but she was cowering in her seat, avoiding any glances. 

Wilson spoke again, and Lana shrunk more in her seat. “I know this is hard. I’m upset too, okay? But we need to separate ourselves. I’m not happy, you’re not happy, and this needs to end.” 

Lana cried directly into the napkin, the cloth covering her face. 

She knew that this was it, it was over. 

There was no chance that Wilson would ever feel this “flame” he speaks of again. 

She wiped her face one more time and looked down as she got up. She didn’t meet his eyes, but tried to exit the restaurant as elegantly as one could after a yelling and crying fit in front of the whole restaurant. 

She left the restaurant as quickly as she could, her purse swinging on her shoulder and the moisture of emotion on her face freezing instantly in the crisp October night. 

Only seconds after Lana flagged down a cab and Wilson flagged down a waiter to pay for the food, Scott and Jamie left the restaurant, hand in hand and stomachs full. 

“I’m so excited! Wedding planning!” Jamie exclaimed in their cab ride home. 

Lana stared solemnly out the window as the blur of the night rushed past. People littered the streets, lights flashed, buildings rose as high as Lana could see. 

Though both of the women felt different feelings, they each went to sleep with a certain hollowness clawing at their throats. Jamie was happy, nothing could make her happier than to always have the warmth at her side now, but marrying Scott meant leaving her mother and father and sister. 

She’d go off and live on her own without any of them and as much as she longed for independence as a young girl, once it finally stared you in the face, it wasn’t so exciting. 

Lana, on the other hand, was dampening the pillow case with tears. She hadn’t changed out of the clothes she wore in the restaurant and her makeup was terribly smeared. 

She half expected Wilson to come barging through the doors, claiming she came home and embracing her and telling her it was all a misunderstanding, but as much as she hated to admit it, she’d been feeling that slow burn he spoke of. 

Lana’s best friend draped a blanket over her and she drifted off to sleep in the guest bed, tears leaking out of her swollen eyes even as sleep pulled her away. 

Each of the men went to bed with a smile on their faces, Wilson’s smile was particularly from the alcohol. The seven beers he’d downed and eight soon to come at the dumpy bar he’d found. 

Scott was from watching Jamie’s gentle breaths sweep a few strands of hair off her nose, and they fell again as she inhaled. This is what Scott fell asleep too, isn’t our guy such a softy? 

Now, I would say something like, “And they lived happily ever after.” But is that true? 

Happy endings are overrated. 

Stick to reality, folks.