Fake A Smile, a short story by annoyance

It is our fifteenth month anniversary. You walk into the restaurant an hour late like you have done nothing wrong. I simply smile at you.

I do not tell you how foolish I had felt, sitting there alone, telling people that yes, I would mind if they took your chair. I do not tell you about how I had heard the waitresses whispering among themselves 'Oh! Another stood up girl. That's the fifth one this week.'

I want to tell you so badly, but I do not.

You lean in to chastely kiss my cheek. You smell of perfume. Distinctly feminine perfume. You may have noticed my slightly questioning look, because you are quick to say, 'My sister has been spraying that Gucci stuff all over the house. Everyone positively reeks of it.'

'Liar!' I want to scream. Your sister and I are good friends. I happen to know for a fact that she despises strong scents. It's something we have in common. But I say nothing.

You ramble on about something neither of us really cares about. I'm not really paying attention. I notice you forcing a laugh, so I realize that you must have said something you thought was amusing. I stretch my lips, and hope that it resembles something close to a smile. You resume speaking.

What was I doing here? Why was I wasting my time?

It wasn't like your infidelity was a secret. You are not as subtle as you like to think. Besides, like I said before, your sister and I are good friends. Know that she would pick me over you any day.

I wasn't even in love with you. Not anymore. At some point my love had just faded into indifference. At it was deteriorating every single moment I spent with you.

Sometimes I think that our relationship works best when we are apart. That way I get to have time to be myself, and you get to fool around. We can lead the lives of single people, although we are in a relationship. The perfect compromise. Yes, I like you best when you are not with me.

I am not under the delusion that you are in love with me. I know you care about me even less than I care about you, and that's really saying something. I almost smile genuinely at the thought. Almost.

So what was keeping me here, celebrating the fifteenth anniversary of a lie? A love for routine, perhaps. If we were no longer together, I cannot imagine what my life will be like. No more smiling my way through dates, when inside I want to hurl. No more saying 'Everything's alright. Really!' to my mother. No more defending you to my father, knowing that you don't deserve it.

No more pretending.

The sad thing is I would be lost without you. My life has become so perfectly structured around this charade we both play. If you were to go, my world would be in chaos.

So you continue to ogle at the waitress behind me, not really caring that I can see you. And I continue to do what I do best.


There she is! My very first published one shot. She's very dear to me (yes, stories are feminine). She was written very late at night, but I just had to get her out, so there has been very little editing done. Tell me what you think!