I turned and went back inside, where everyone was sitting and talking. Dad was talking with Leon. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot," Dad said to Leon. "And the way that I treated you."

That was the second apology Dad gave in two days to someone in our family. I think that's a new record for any of us.

"Don't worry about it," Leon said. "It's what you guys do. Worrying about your kids."

"And you're sure that you can't stay?"

"I wish I could," he said. "But I've got people to take care of too."

There was an awkward sigh. Dad sipped a bit of wine and put the glass down on the counter.

"Well, when all of this ends, you better pay your father-in-law a visit," Dad said.

"I'll bring the whole family over," he said. "You know, go big or go home."

"That's a great idea," Dad said and smiled.

"I think you and my dad would make great friends," Leon added.

They continued to talk as I made my way over to the other side of the living room. Mom had turned on a lamp and lit a couple of candles for this occasion and the room was bathed with a blend of warm amber light and the harsh fluorescent light of the lamp. "

Hey, Neal," someone said and tapped my shoulder. I turned back to see May.

"What?" I asked.

"What happened in the bathroom?"

"Charles spilled food on his shirt," I said.

"So you dumped his, no wait, our clothes in the bathtub?"

"It was the noodles," I said. "It practically instantly stained the shirt. I just dumped everything in the tub and soaked them in water so that the stain wouldn't be permanent."

"Well, the bathroom smells a bit weird," she said.

"Is that the only thing that you came to me to talk about?"

"We're moving out all our pillows and blankets to the couch."

"Isn't Leon sleeping on the couch?" I asked.

"Well, obviously," she said. "So if we're taking his place on the couch, that means that he's taking our place—"

"In the bedroom," I said.

"Yep," May said. "It's probably the last time that they're ever going to see each other unless some miracle happens, and they're a newly married couple, so you know, we should give them a night together that's a little rough and rowdy, if you know—"

"I know what you mean," I said. "No need to continue describing it."

"Well, grab the pillows," she said. "And no stealing my fluffy pillows. I'm watching you."

So we grabbed out pillows and comforters and moved it to the couches while moving Leon's items into our bedroom. Mom and Dad were too busy talking to each other to notice, and I think Leon and Mira were in the kitchen. At that moment, the sky had fully darkened and the air inside our house was chilly, and today felt like the first day of winter.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The rest of the evening felt like a blur. Mira and Leon had their first dance, though admittedly it was awkward because there was no music. But you could feel the intimacy, both of them leaning against each other, knowing that this could possibly be their last embrace, gently swaying as the candles flickered. And you could feel Mom and Dad's gaze, watching their daughter grow up right in front of them, and the rush of emotions going through their mind, like an erupting geyser.

Everything felt so poetic. The flickering candle lights, the aroma of dinner wafting through the air, the flecks of ash drifting outside the window, the hearty laughing echoing in the rooms, the smiles of everyone who was drunk on food and our last vestiges of normal life. The thoughts about what's going to come after today faded in everybody's minds. At that moment, all we were doing was just enjoying the present.

Just before everyone went to sleep, we all gathered together, sitting on the couch. Mom and Dad were finishing up the last of the wine, and Mira and Leon were talking with each other.

"Our first dance was so awkward without music," Mira said.

"Awkward and perfect," Leon said. "We can redo it once everything gets better."

"No," she said. "I liked it. I loved it."

May elbowed me in the ribs. I said, "What?"

She eyeballed towards Mira and Leon. "This is so sappy."

"Well, love is weird," I said.

"At least this is something we can agree upon," she muttered. "What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"

"That's tomorrow's problem," I said.

Before May could respond, Leon stood up. "I just want to thank you guys for everything. Despite the ups and downs, these two weeks have been the best of my life."

His voice started to crack. "And I just want to thank you all for making that happen."

Dad leaned forwards. "My wife and I have something to give to you."

Mom handed Leon a wrapped gift.

"It's a music box," Dad said. "The one I gave to her when we got married."

"This— This seems pretty important for you guys," Leon said. "I'm not sure if I could take it."

"We haven't touched that thing in years," Mom said and laughed. "It'll be better with you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Mom said.

Leon held the wrapped music box in his hands and then put it to the side. "Thank you. Is there anything I can—"

"You've already done enough," Mom said. "The food that you gave us will help us get through."

Leon put his hands on his face and seemed shaken up. Mom then stood up and picked up the glasses of wine and dumped them into the sink.

"Maybe it's time for us to head to bed now," she said. "Mira, come with me. Let's make sure the dress doesn't get torn. Everyone else, get ready to sleep."

Mira turned to Leon and whispered something into his ear, and he nodded back, and Mira stood up and walked with Mom, looking back at Leon. May and Dad went up to the bathroom to begin brushing, leaving me and Leon as the last two people in the living room. There was an awkward silence between us.

"Sorry for being such a mess," he said and ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm guessing that you're leaving for good," I said.

He sighed, and there was another silence. "Do you think the world is ever going to get better?"

"I'd like to think that it would," I said. "But the way everything is going, I don't know."

"It has to get better, you know," he said. "It just has to."

"Have you ever tried writing for Mira?" I asked. "Just so that she'd have something to remember you by in case it takes a long time for the world to get better."

"Mira and I talked about it. She's got one written down, but I don't know what to say," he said. "It's like nothing I'll write will be perfect enough for her."

"Mira thought about this the same way," I replied. "Not for this thing, but for the wedding. She was so nervous this morning because she just wanted everything to be perfect. It's why she was so annoyed by the photo. Everything was going along perfectly until that imperfect photo, but in the end, Mira found some joy in that imperfection, and everything worked out as best as it could."

"So, just pick up a pen and write," I said. "It doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be honest. Here let me get you a pen and paper."

I stood up and pulled a sheet on binder paper out, along with a black pen, and placed it in front of Leon. "Just write whatever comes into your mind," I said. "I have to go brush, so I'll leave you here and give you some privacy."

He picked up the pen and looked at me. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem," I said. "And also, you're, uh, kinda not sleeping on the couch today, and May and I moved your stuff to Mira's room, so yeah, you'll be sleeping over there."

I could see him blushing in the lamplight, so I quickly walked away to the bathroom because the conversation was getting too awkward. When May finished brushing and announced that she was sleeping, he picked up the lantern and went into Mira's bedroom to continue to write.

Personally, I couldn't sleep tonight, so I stayed up, writing in this journal under a lamplight, as May softly snored on the couch. Even though the world around us is collapsing, today felt perfect. Someday, I'll probably look back at this day differently, maybe more negatively or bitterly even.

But for now, I wish that today would never end.