"Are you really not letting me in?" Denise yelled from other end of the door.
"I don't want you to see me like this?"
"Why do you wanna see me like this?"
"Because I care about you."
"Why do you care about me, Nikhole?"
" I love you?"
He laid his hand against the door.
"Say it again." He whispered.
She didn't respond. He looked through the peep hole and didn't see anyone. He rubbed his face again. He looked again.
"What is going on?"
He opened the door and stepped outside. His sweatpants dragged against his welcome mat. The cold breeze slapped him against his face. He looked around for her car, but it was no where to be found. He walked back into his apartment and looked at the bottle.
"Damn, I'm drunk. Fuck."
He stumbled into his kitchen and glanced at his reflection. "This is what I've become. A broke drunk." He looked at his phone: 14 missed calls and 27 pending texts.
He concentrated on the clock, "I think it says 1:14am." He stood there for nine minutes staring at his reflection.
His doorknob started to jingle. He looked at the door and Denise opened it.
"John! Are you okay?"
"You're drunk." She dropped her purse on the couch and tiptoed over the furniture flipped over. He pinched himself.
"Leave me alone."
Denise ignored him and reached out her hand.
"Take my hand, John."
"Denise, leave me."
"I am not leaving you, now take my hand."
"I have a lot of anger. I don't want to hurt you."
"Will you really hurt me?"
She reached out her hand and he stared at it.
Denise uttered, "I hate to see you like this. But I am here for you through the good or the bad. Rich or poor. I want to be your partner. Are you still looking for one?"
She reached her hand out and he grabbed it.
Denise caressed his face, "I'm not leaving you. To death do us part."
John hugged her and started to cry, "vows."