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'Hi, sorry I'm late.' ; Eske pushed the chair and sat without even looking at her: 'Did you already order?'

'What happened?' Alice asked. Her face was pale with anxiety. Alice was pulling out all her strength to keep her eye dry. She didn't want to cry in front of him.

'Nothing, just traffic. Do we order wine?'

She looked down for a moment, then nodded. Eske ordered a bottle of red wine from the waiter, who had come out of nowhere.

'Are you okay?'; she asked.

'Yeah, why?' he said quickly. The question made him feel visibly uncomfortable. Alice didn't look too happy either: 'Eske, your eyes are red.'

He flushed slightly as they oversaw each other: 'A student brought his cat today to class.'

'A cat?' she repeated.

'Yeah, told you I was allergic.'; he pointed to his face circling the redness: 'They get like this.'

'If I didn't know, I would think you were crying.'

'No, it is just allergies.'

They drank their first glass of wine together silently. Alice felt awkward with the speechlessness between them. After six years together, she was used to it. 'You didn't like your food?'

Eske took his eyes off his phone: 'What?'

'You didn't touch your plate.'; she pointed to the intact dish.

'I'm not hungry.' he replied simply.

'Is everything okay?' she added, still anxious. There seemed something wrong about Eske's manner, which she couldn't put her finger on.

'What is going on, Alice? It's the second time you've asked me that.'; he said.

The waiter appeared again and refilled their glasses. 'You seem off. Are you still taking the samples?'

'Yes,'; he answered shortly, 'Never felt better.'

Alice sipped slowly, watching his face closely for any sign of what might have been bothering him. 'How many?'

'How many what Alice?'

'How many pills do you take now?'

'One.'; he responded flatly.

She stared at him blank-faced, then suddenly laughed nervously: 'You're lying. Why are you lying?'

'Is this some interrogation? I don't know what you're complaining about. You have what you want, and I have what I want. What are you complaining about?'; he said, crossing his arms: 'Is there something on our deal you are unhappy about?'

'Why didn't you stop taking them?'

'It's my business.'; and stood out of his chair: I'm going to pay the bill.'

Eske got up abruptly, paid at the counter, and went to the window overlooking the street below.

Alice followed hesitantly behind, uncertain if she should say anything or leave him alone. But when she reached the window, he turned around to see her standing beside him. 'This is a nice place', she remarked quietly, glancing round the restaurant. It was one of those places where the walls were lined with photographs of people who had eaten there.

'Nice?'; he asked, surprised by the comment. 'I've seen nicer'. His tone implied that he meant the opposite.

'You are particularly grumpy tonight.'

'Maybe because you keep asking questions.'

'I don't know what to do to keep you happy. I don't know what else I can do.'

'I'm sorry, Alice.'; he pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her hair lightly with the tips of his fingers: 'There isn't much anyone can do to make me happy. Not anymore.'

'But I love you so much!' she cried. 'Why am I not enough? I love you, Eske.'

'Thank you.'; he whispered against her ear. Then he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

When he broke away, she smiled the saddest smile, knowing she was in the arms of a man who could never love her back.

'Are you breaking up with me?'

'You don't really give me that choice, do you?'; he put his hands inside his pockets: 'I'll sleep at my place if you don't mind. Or do I have to go with you?'

‘Marry me!’

‘You cannot ask me that.’

‘Marry me, Eske.’

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It started a couple of months ago. Eske was convinced he finally had what could be considered a normal life. An everyday life. He had a stable job, still as a math teacher. People didn't seem to notice that he didn't age, perhaps because of how stern and stoic he could be. He had a stable relationship. Not passionate nor exciting, just a comfortable relationship with no unexpected events. Eske was satisfied. He had a satisfying boring life. A very dull life. Until he met someone he hadn't seen for a long time at a local grocery store not far from the school.

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'Professor Schrodinger! How are you!'; a woman with very suggestive attire came closer to him with a dazzling smile. 'Fine, and you?'; he did a quick fake smile, not remembering who it was at first. But after peeking at the translucid shirt, a sudden memory came to his mind, Anabel's mum. Some people don't change at all with time.

The woman in question turned away her head to hide an embarrassed blush as she looked up again into his eyes with a look that seemed to say, 'You know, I was thinking of you the other day'. She stood there for several moments before saying: 'My god, you haven't changed at all! You are exactly the same. Handsome and breathtaking!'

'Thank you.'; Eske replied, discomfiting, and to change the topic, he asked: 'How is your daughter, Anabel?'

Her warm smile faded away and was followed by a puzzled gaze: 'Professor., I'm Anabel. I was your student, class 96, remember?'

Eske fake smile faded away. The girl he used to teach was 12, maybe 14. How did this happen? Although he noticed that people didn't see his lack of ageing, it didn't mean that the world around him wasn't. He felt again that this timeline was where dreams come to die.

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Eske turned the keys on Alice's door and turned the light on. He went to the kitchen with the groceries bag and started unpacking them. Still, he had only got as far as putting down a loaf of bread when his attention was arrested by the sounds of number nine. His favourite number. His heart started to race, and his breathing quickened until it seemed almost painful. It couldn't be. He hadn't taken any pills and didn't even get near the lab's building. He couldn't stop feeling his lips ripping a smile. She was back. She was finally back!

He turned and saw her, with her soft smile, her grey hair falling into cascade over her shoulders. She was glowing. He dropped whatever he was doing and grabbed her by her wrist to pull her in his arms.

'You're here.'; said Eske softly. He kissed her, holding her as tight as he could against his chest. 'I've been waiting for you!'; whispered Eske trying to hold his tears. His hands stroked her hair, face, and lips, caressing every part. He couldn't stop kissing her, so eager this time, so passionate. He lifted her and sat her on the table, where she giggled before taking him between her legs. They made love feverishly, their bodies moving together like one organism, each seeking the other out, wanting more than anything else at that moment to make sure they were still joined. He couldn't remember the last time he lost himself in her.

When finished, Eske held her tightly against him again, brushing her hair, but when he looked at the strand of hair falling between his fingers, they were not grey.

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'Wow, that was maybe the best sex we had.'; it wasn't her voice either.

He let loose his embrace and looked at her. It wasn't her. It wasn't Nona's face, nor Nona's skin, nor Nona's hair. It was Alice. Ñumber nine was sprouting around her, stealing Nona's symphony and voice. He made love to a ghost that he thought he had already mourned.

'What have you done?'; he asked, pulling his pants up.

'Eske, what are you talking about?'; replied Alice. Eske confronted her, disgusted with a taste of macabre in his mouth. Something was off with Alice. There weren't any wrinkles around her eyes, and her skin was glowing, almost as if she had rejuvenated.

'What did you do? Are you consuming the pills?'; asked Eske. He was utterly distressed. But there was no answer from Alice.

Her eyes didn't meet Eske's accusing eyes: 'I had to.'

'You had to?'; repeated Eske incredulously. 'You know what it does to me, what the fuck, Alice!'

'I thought you were past her!'; said Alice, a bit louder than intended.

'I will never be past her!'; shouted Eske punching the table with both hands. 'It is fucking impossible!'

Alice was frozen half naked over the kitchen table, with the saddest face that any woman could have and repeated: 'I had too.'

'Why Alice? Why?'

'It came back.'; she mumbled, looking away.

The sound of her words pierced through Eske's ears and mind, making him feel like something was tearing inside his head. The room became blurry, darkening around the edges.

'I have cancer, Eske. It came back and is worse than the first time. It's already in stage 3.'; she tried to say calmly. She took a deep breath to continue. 'I need to try once again. It worked the first time.'

She kept staring at him, trying to find some kind of forgiveness or understanding in those yellow-golden eyes. Eske felt sick, knowing there was no way out. As long as Alice was sick, he would always see her. He would always want her. Eske would always love her but behind was someone who needed him the most. He was trapped as he was the jail himself.

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'Marry me!'

'You cannot ask me that.'

'Marry me, Eske.'; Alice asked again. The pleading of a dying woman who clunch on this hope that time would spare her.

'You don't leave me any choice, do you?' Eske said in his stoic voice. 'You do realise I still see her in you. When you touch me, it is her who touches me. When I kiss you, it's her. When I smile is because I see her. Do you really want that in your last years?'

'You talk as if I was already dying.' She smiled at him through the tears and the pain she could not help showing. He had always been kind to her, but he could also be so cold. 'I will beat it.'

'Perhaps. I hope you do.' But there was no conviction about his words. His face told its own tale. One of doubt, fear and love for what remained behind him.

'Please say yes.'

'I don't want any venue, no guests, no rings, and I don't want you to have my name.'

Alice laughed out of spite: 'That sounds like something out of a romance novel.'

Eske grinned back. 'Does are my terms. Take it or leave it.'

She kissed him. 'Okay.'

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