Sunday Short: Can We Be Friends?

Chapter 1: The Anniversary Walk

Zoe had always imagined her fifth anniversary dinner would include at least one of the following: a handwritten letter, a string quartet, or an engagement ring discreetly hidden in a crème brûlée.

Instead, she got a half-wilted rose in a water glass and an undercooked risotto.

To be fair, Ethan did try. He booked the semi-fancy bistro two weeks in advance, wore the watch she bought him last year, and even put his phone face down during appetizers—though it still buzzed. A lot.

They weren’t just five years in. They were cohabiting five years in. Same apartment. Same Sunday laundry schedule. Same shared Netflix account (under Zoe’s name because Ethan once misspelled “email” during sign-up and locked himself out).

But despite the shared bills and synchronized toothbrush routines, their progress had been... slower than expected. No engagement. No long-term plans. Not even a joint savings account. The spark wasn’t gone, but it was flickering behind a very long to-do list.

Zoe, a PR officer at a fashion company, was currently trying to rescue the brand from its latest PR disaster: the company’s owner had made very loud, very public remarks declaring Crocs “the downfall of modern fashion.” Twitter disagreed. Loudly.

Ethan, fresh into a junior partner role at his law firm, was juggling back-to-back court dates and a boss who thought ‘lunch’ meant replying to emails with one hand while eating peanuts with the other.

Conversation over dinner had felt like a performance review.

"Are we still seeing your parents next weekend?"

"I have a client call Sunday night."

"Did we reschedule the vet?"

"What vet?"

No mention of marriage. Or kids. Or even buying a slightly larger bookshelf. Just logistics and lukewarm food.

They split the bill out of habit.

---

After dinner, they walked toward Central Park. The air was cool and breezy, the kind that makes you zip up your jacket and wonder if you're living in the soft opening of a romantic movie.

They strolled in comfortable silence—comfortable, but a little too quiet. The kind of silence that made Zoe glance at Ethan’s face and think, Do we still feel like “us”?

As they passed a cluster of trees, Zoe spotted something twinkling just off the path.

“Look at that,” she said, already veering off-trail.

Ethan followed. “That’s not on the map.”

“How often are you looking at maps of Central Park?”

“...Don't worry about it.”

They found themselves in front of a small, almost-hidden fountain. It looked aged but charming, like it had been forgotten by the city and adopted by the moonlight. Coins glittered faintly at the bottom, like a secret no one had shared in a while.

Zoe smiled. “Want to make a wish?”

Ethan nodded and reached into his pocket. Zoe did the same.

They stood side by side, closed their eyes, and quietly tossed their coins into the water.

“I wish to marry my best friend,” each of them thought.

A moment passed.

Then—at the exact same time—they both turned and asked:

“What did you wish for?”

And just as perfectly, they both replied in sync:

“It won’t come true if I tell you.”

They blinked at each other… and burst out laughing.

---

It was the kind of laugh that tugged at their stomachs and reminded them of being 23 again, sitting on the floor of their first apartment, eating takeout from the container and laughing about how they accidentally bought decaf coffee pods for a whole month.

That silliness. That spark. That’s what had made them fall in love the first time.

Still smiling, Zoe reached out and took Ethan’s hand.

They walked the rest of the way home like that—fingers laced, quiet and warm.

Back to their apartment. Back to their routines. Unaware that their wish had already been accepted.

And the universe?

The universe was already getting to work.

---

[Coming Next Sunday: Chapter 2 — Cupcakes & Pecs]