“What are you going to eat?” asked Fiona, opposite me.

She had taken me to a fancy restaurant. She had forced me to wear a red turtleneck and a glittering black jacket on top of it. The sneakers on my feet were electric Yeezay.

“I’ll eat whatever you choose.” I smiled at her. I had known long ago that she would take me out for a date, but the power to propose a bond lingered in my beer-filled hands.

She ordered turf steak and greens and I devoured it like a pig, my hands replacing the forks. Then a reminder about medicine from Dr. McCain rung in my head, yet I didn’t bother. At this point, I and Fiona had already violated his ‘an hour only’ advice (it had been over fifteen hours since we left the hospital). Here we were having a date night—I would call it that way despite Fiona dodging the whole point.

I leaned forward to her to rush the pinnacle of our date.

“You do know I love you, right?!” I said without fear.

“Of course, I know,” responded Fiona, “so what, babe?!”

I realized we were both too loud. The moment other customers gazed at us in annoyance, I also realized I and Fiona were both tipsy. I stared at our tall glasses and found out emptiness. I told the waiter: “Your wine was so fine.”

The waiter smirked. “It was scotch whiskey, sir.” He clarified, issuing me a receipt.

I glanced at Fiona who was apparently lost in thought. The waiter looked at me and Fiona, back and forth.

“Are you paying or she is?” asked the waiter as he was surprised to see me avoiding the receipt.

Fiona snatched the receipt. “I’m footing the bill. Stop bothering my husband.”

“Oh, understood…Mrs. Wheelbarrow,” said the waiter.

“I’m no longer Mrs. Wheelbarrow, he passed on,” said Fiona, and pulled out a bank card from her GG leather handbag. “This cute man you see is my new husband,” she added while passing the bank card to the waiter. At that moment, I was the happiest tipsy guy in the world.

“My condolences, ma’am. I did not learn about his death,” said the waiter, swiping the bank card into the card reader.

As soon as I and Fiona returned to her home, we laughed our lungs out for a reason that we had dodged a Breathalyzer test from traffic cops on the road. I traded kisses with her as we get rid of our garments heading towards her canopy bed.