1 The Supper: The Ending and the Beginning

He closed his eyes and rubbed them.

"This is a dream," he mumbled. His voice was stuffy. He couldn't help but sniffle. "A really, really bad dream."

It must be. None of his dreams were ever bright, nor were they colorful. They were always dull and colorless, like watching a black-and-white film. But now? All the colors had lost their vibrancy.

He struggled to open his puffed-up eyes again. 'My gods,' he thought to himself, 'I can't even begin to imagine how red they must be right now.' He could barely think straight. When was the last time he had shed tears? And now? All he could think of is her. What would she say if she was here?

"Stupid sexy Flanders."

Yes, she would say that.

And she would say that to him.

How did she once describe it? "I'm trying so hard to focus on studying here, but all I can think of is you."

"Freaken dumb, stupid, sexy Flanders," he murmured.

Goodness. It had only been a day, but the day had never felt so long.

He dragged himself up from the wet, cold floor, knocking over the two empty glass cups. He looked at the red stain on the floor.

'I can't do this anymore,' he thought. 'Let me just stop trying.'

The house was eerily quiet. This was their place. Their warmth. Their shelter. Their comfort zone. Was.

He ambled to the living room, past the pair of rocking chairs that he had crafted. No matter what he did, he couldn't stop his feet from feeling like it's sinking with each step he took.

They look so empty right now, that pair of chairs. His gaze turned to the half-revealed crib on the living room table. He had been working on that for the last 2 weeks. It was such a wonderful dream. He was about to surprise her with it too and tell her the truth. Was. He was scared, but was going to come clean. He even got all the monthly paperwork from the doctor's office too. The inheritance check also came in the mail yesterday. However, it's all too late now.

'Let me just give up,' he prayed as he walked to the kitchen pantry and grabbed two bottles of medicine. 'Let me just let go.' On the table, the half-cut carrot was still sitting there on the cutting board. He ignored it and went to the fridge.

'If this isn't good for me, well'——he took a swig of a freshly popped beer can——'I don't want to know.' He snapped open the pill bottles and downed it.

But he can't not know. He could still remember last night, clear as day. Where did it all go wrong? He couldn't help but to think of last night, all over again.

--- Last night ---

He was preparing dinner when he heard the car pull up. He could still see her in his mind right now, skipping with her sleek black heels, twirling in her light blue skirt, all the way from her car to the front door. She came in, so happy was she. Her face was bubbly, and she was glowing. She was humming Ben Cock's song, "So Cold". He had always told her it was a depressing song, but she didn't care. It was her favorite. Her second favorite was Katelyn's "You Don't Know". And she was always dancing along with the vocals. Oh, her moves were something to die for.

She came in from the front door, holding a yellow envelope, and jumped on him with a great hug.

"Look at you, Inez!" he cried, settling down the carrot. "You've just wiped 200 pounds of pollen onto my apron! What bee colony did you destroy this time? You're always so happy when you think you've gotten away with something!"

Inez laughed. "I've great news today! I'm so excited, Mark!"

"Me too! I've two, actually," Mark replied, "But you go first!"

"No, you!"

"Alright, I'll start." He smiled. He went to the backyard and brought back a giant box.

"Open it!" he told her.

She was tilting her head, looking at the box. He stared at her expectantly.

Slowly, she unraveled it. As she pulled off half of the wrappings, she gasped.

"Is t-t-that——" she stuttered. Her fingers started trembling.

"Yep!"——he pulled her to him——"Do you like that crib?"

Inez started sobbing. It was always her dream to start a family. She nodded, tears streaking down her face. He stroked her head, waiting for her sobs to quiet down. When she was calmed down enough, he went to grab two glasses and a bottle of red wine. As he started pouring, she came up and hugged him from behind. After a brief moment, she whispered, ever so softly:

"I'm pregnant—"

The moment he heard those words, his whole world stopped. He froze.

"—the doctor said I'm three weeks pregnant."

The glass kept filling up... and slipped out of his hand. It fell, ever so slowly, onto the floor, spilling everything.

Feeling him tensing up and hearing the loud thud, she craned her neck over his shoulders.

"Honey, what's wron—"

She then saw the spilt cup. She ran off to grab the towels and came back, but he was still standing with his hand out like he was pouring, unmoving. She couldn't understand what was wrong, but kept trying to clean the floor before the red wine stained the wooden floor any further.

"I've been visiting the doctor every month," he started, "for the last 3 years." His shoulders slumped. His voice was low, as if someone had punched him in the gut and he couldn't breathe.

"It was a condition for my dad's inheritance... I was to not father any kids these three years and get my degree first."

"Dear, that's fine. You did it, it's okay," she consoled, reaching over to touch his face. "It's already been three years."

He turned his head to the side and backed away from her touch.

"No, you don't understand," he stated with a trembling voice. "I had vasectomy there and then. That was three years ago...."His voice trailed off.

He then looked at her in the eyes. Inez's green eyes were wide open, and so was her mouth.

"And every other month,"—he continued on despite her shock—"I had to continue going to the doctor to make sure... that I'm sterile."

Tears streaked across his face.

"And I still am."