Virtually mirrored

The talk

Audrey's condo was only a ten minute trip. Westmore got flowers on the way. Perfectly reconstructed roses and lilies, her favorites. They agreed to take a break for three weeks. Today was the end of that break. He was going to make it work, was going to put in all the needed effort. Whatever it takes. Audrey answered the doorbell after a full two minutes of waiting. She always did that, kept him waiting a bit.

- Hey Nathan, come in. Sit yourself down in the kitchen. - She greeted, not even looking at the flowers in his hand. Was always this way. If he didn't have them then she'd notice.

Westmore took his shoes off, Audrey was paranoid about that. Walked a few steps through the hallway and sat down at the kitchen counter. High chairs made it feel almost like a bar. Placed the flowers on the counter. For a moment his mind expected a skeletal arm to rise up, not this chubby thing. Startled, shivers ran down his back. Really good scenario. He looked at Audrey as she moved about the kitchen. Putting dishes away and pretending to wipe down already clean surfaces.

- So how have you been Nathan? - she asked
- Fine. Been fine. Just finished my VR scenario yesterday.
- Was it good?
- It was... - he hesitated a bit. - Breathtaking.
- Well, drop me serial number in a message will you.
- I don't think you'd like it. It's a very old VR. Like twenty years old.
- Why do you even like those? They make much better ones these days.
- I don't know. They seem... pure. When they had less to work with it was more... meaningful.
- Right. All the deep stuff and what not.
- Anyway I wanted to talk to you Audrey!
- Oh. What about?
- Well.... us. - she stood silently watching him now. - We agreed to take a break, three weeks ago today. As you said... to check what we mean to each other. - he went silent then.
- Yes... and...? - she retorted in that cold tone he hated.
- Well. - Westmore decided to speak openly. No other way to get through this. God she was so cold sometimes. - Well I still care for you Audrey. I missed you, all these three weeks. I went into the VR scenario to miss you less. 
- Oh Nathan, you're being emotional again.
- Yes I am. I still.... love you Audrey. Is nothing else that matters to me, not really.
She walked around the counter and put palms on both cheeks, cupping his face. Hope sparked.
- Nathan, we're too young to love anything but ourselves. You're 33 and I'm 30. We have more than a century ahead of us.
- Audrey I...
- You don't know the meaning of the word you're using Nathan. We're both too young. And besides your life is a mess right now. - All hope dashed with her words. - Your job is a joke, a technician. You're so much smarter than that. How would we even afford anything.
- I didn't think... we'd need to...
- I want to live life Nathan. Not waste it. - There was that word again, waste. - I want to see the world, I want to see... space. From orbit. I want to experience so much. All you want to do is lie in bed, play games and VR... waste time.
- I want a life... with you. - The words almost choked in his throat.
- Nathan! - She let go of him, turned and walked back beside the counter. - Nathan I'm not ready for anything like that. - There she goes, singing a different tune. God he was so stupid. - Maybe in a few years. When your life is more sorted, fuller. I can't be the only thing you're interested in Nathan. You must have goals!
- Yeah. I guess. - he answered woodenly.
- And if we're not meant to be, then we're not meant to be. You know?
- Yeah. - Westmore was staring at the flowers on the counter now. They looked so grey and dead to his eyes.
- We're very different people Nathan. Like I'm going out for lunch with this wonderful man today! Who knows. Maybe there'll be something, maybe not. The point is we have to search while we have time. - That was her version of tact. Heart felt like breaking, was.
- That's ok. I think I'll start now. - he said getting up from the seat. - Been nice as always.
- Oh Nathan don't be like that! You'll see I'm right in a few...
Her words drawled in the distance, feet already moving to the elevator.

Elevator music was playful, soothing.... disgusting. Would cry if he wasn't so empty and numb. Knew the result before ever coming here, deep inside. Just hoped something would be different this time. Hope dies last, dead now. Trip home was uneventful and instantly forgettable. All the colors, sights and sounds couldn't shake the numbness. The world wasn't even grey. It was simply nothing, a black hole.

Stuffed his face of a random meal. If he looked hard enough in the mirror that emaciated face would show through. Lay in bed with tears in his eyes. Stupid waste. Westmore got up and got a lot of alcohol from the dispenser. Whisky, bourbon, vodka. Lined up glasses on his kitchen table then threw them at the wall as he downed the liquid. Not all would break, some would remain. Suffering went slowly, always did. Two hours later a neighbor ran the doorbell. Too much noise the man said. Wasn't even any music playing, just the sound of shattering glass.

Lay in bed thinking after. Three years of nothing. Three years of wanting more. What a waste. At least he had his job, harder and harder to get those these days. Machines did absolutely everything, human contact or oversight was no longer needed. And he had his hobbies, tinkering with tech. Friends could be counted on the fingers of one hand, half of those from work. Would have cried himself to sleep if not for the numbness. Not even the grey could cure this.