What If Just...

24 Vivian

Aiden takes two blankets from the dresser, we blow out the candles and go outside.

The August evening envelopes us with a gentle warmth.

Due to the lack of illumination in the area, the moon and stars seem to be even brighter than usual.

"I hope Grace will forgive us for trampling the lawn," Aiden says, laying the widest blanket on the grass.

My eyes are already accustomed to the darkness and better distinguish the surrounding environment.

"When I was a child, I lived with my grandparents quite often.
At that time there was an endless construction site here - people wanted to escape from the bustling city closer to nature and found an ideal way of life in this suburb.
Those days the lights were turned off to carry out the necessary repairs almost every evening, and sometimes short circuits happened by mistake. Grandma and Grandpa took blankets and snacks and came out here with me.
We sang, told each other stories, made up fairy tales, jokes and other nonsense as we went along, which helped us pass the time in the dark."

It's very unusual to hear something so personal from Aiden, and thus, I appreciate his frankness beyond words.

"You had a wonderful childhood," I say dreamily. "And amazing grandparents."

"Yeah," the guy says shortly, falling into nostalgia.

For a while we both lie on our backs and look at the starry sky, thinking about something of our own.

"Vivian, will you ever tell me why you ran away from your world?" Aiden asks cautiously.

"You never showed interest".

"I didn't want to put pressure on you..."

I'm trying to make up a short story of my life in my head.

"I wasn't planning to run away, it was an accident," I explain. "In my world, everything is very structured.
If you don't follow the rules and don't go according to the plan, you feel pain.
Up to a certain age, I didn't experience this system of punishment, because I lived exactly as I was required to.
But then the time came when, according to the plan, it was necessary to get married, then give birth to my first child, and I stopped being fit, because I stopped meeting the guidelines.
Not because I wanted to annoy someone so much, but because listening to my desires and vision of the future, I did not yet imagine myself in the status in which I should have been.
The pain became more and more unbearable, the compliance sensors decreased - as a result, I lost my job.
That evening I ended up where we met because I felt hopeless and wanted to get drunk for the first time in my life," I smile sadly.

"Alcohol is bad for you, even if you don't drink it," Aiden tries to joke.

We both fall silent again, plunging into a new pile of thoughts.

"What time do they require you to get married?" he asks after a while.

"At eighteen. At twenty you are already considered an old maid," I exaggerate a little, brightening up what I said with a smile.

The guy notices my attempts to make the conversation less tragic and painful and smiles in response so that a cute dimple, which I has already managed to fall in love with, becomes visible on his cheek.

"But seriously?" he doesn't let up.

"But seriously, Aiden, I was written off at the age of twenty-five so much that they were ready to give me to widowers, who sometimes turned out to be older than my parents, just to "get me settled" and to "find a reliable match before it's too late"," I answer, not wanting to hide my irritation. "Do you know what the most terrible thing is? That it wasn't even my parents who did all this, they more or less accepted my choice, worrying mainly about what I have to endure every night.
This "help" came from relatives and sometimes unfamiliar people who for some reason considered it their duty to drive the idea into my head that I am nobody without a husband and children.
Since the age of fifteen, they have shown us films about the consequences of late pregnancy at school. They convinced us that having given birth after twenty-five, we should not even think about a healthy child. Everything so that guys and girls are afraid and create families as early as possible, without regard to love.
I was so heavily pressured and intimidated so often that it seems I will always resist these topics now, even if something changes in my life.
You know, as a form of protest, when you don't want someone unpleasant to get their way, seeing that you decided to do as they wanted and forced you, even if you do really want these things for yourself now."

I probably told all this too emotionally, because now I'm out of air: I breathe in and still can't get enough.

"I'm really sorry you had to go through this," Aiden breaks the silence. "We also have such pressure here, but mostly from the generation of grandparents. On the contrary, young people have a tendency to live for themselves until the age of thirty and only then create families if they want".

"I don't even consider myself a youth," I reply quietly, thinking. "I've been convinced for so long that I'm an old, useless nag," I try to smile so as not to cry.

I need to change the subject, otherwise I'll flood the whole garden with tears. Grace wouldn't be happy about that.

However, Aiden seems to have more to say.

«Since we're talking about public pressure and expectations for a certain age, I'll tell you the ugly truth - everyone here is obsessed with getting as much material shit as possible - apartments, cars, branded clothes, watches, smartphones etc.
If you don't have at least some of this - get ready for public ridicule from the foulest mouths.
The truth is that contrary to the assurances that money can buy happiness, I don't know a single person who would really feel happy having all the shit from some greedy achiever's wish list that people blindly hurry to fulfill, even if deep down they personally don't give a single fuck about all those things.
People here either suffer from the fact that they cannot earn enough, or from the fact that they do not know where to put the already hated banknotes. The sooner you realize how pointless this race is, the healthier your mind remains", the guy concludes.

«You won't believe it, but I couldn't buy an apartment and a car even if I had the money. All for the same family free reason," I admit.

"Our worlds are not that different - both are fucked up", Aiden states, turning his head to face me.

"Such a mess", I sigh in frustration and turn to face him as well.

After we look at each other in silence for a few seconds, I decide that the time for a change of subject has finally come.

"You are so patient and attentive to children," I say, recalling the events of the day. "Do you like teaching them?"

"Yeah, it's always entertaining," Aiden smiles dreamily. "There are, of course, those brats who awaken the beast in me, but I quickly put them in their place."

"You'll be a wonderful father," I say without hesitation, turning on my side without breaking eye contact.

"No, I won't," he replies shortly and averts his eyes to the sky.

"I really think you'll do great. You take such good care of me, let alone your own child..."

"I won't, because I'm not going to start a family. For many reasons. End of story," Aiden explains dryly, being clearly annoyed.

I peer into the outline of the guy's profile, trying to imagine what could have pushed him to such a firm and indisputable decision.