"I know this is maybe gonna sound weird, but before we kiss ...can we talk first, like with you pretending to be her?"
"Alright," Ben said, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "Let's talk for a little bit. But remember, it's just pretend."
Chris nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of hope and desperation. He took a step closer to Ben, holding his gaze as if searching for any sign of Anne within him.
"Okay," Chris began, trying to steady his racing heartbeat, "Tell me about that time we went camping by the lake. Remember how we spent hours sitting by the fire?"
Ben hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration. Then, he closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to sink into the role of Anne. When he opened them again, there was a subtle shift in his expression, a softening around the edges.
"Yes," Ben said softly, a hint of warmth in his voice, "I remember. We talked about everything that night, didn't we?"
"You told me about your dream of opening your own bakery one day, remember?"
"Yes," Ben replied, a gentle smile gracing his lips.
"And then I told you I loved you for the first time..."
Ben's smile faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. He hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. Chris's heart sank, fearing that he had crossed a line, pushing Ben too far into the role of Anne.
But then, something shifted within Ben. His gaze softened, and he took a step closer to Chris, closing the gap between them.
"I remember," Ben whispered, his voice barely audible, "And then what happened?"
"We kissed," Chris said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Like this?" Ben leaned in, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips against Chris's. The kiss was gentle, tentative, as if they were both afraid to fully surrender to the moment.
"What happened next?" Ben's finger stroked Chris' chest, taking pride in his ability to fool him so easily.
"We ...we couldn't keep our hands off each other," Chris stammered, his voice laced with desire, "We ...made love for the first time."
"Look at me," Chris pleaded, "Please look at me and tell me that you remember."
"Yes," Ben feigned, "I remember. I remember everything."
Chris felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over him as Ben finally allowed himself to be drawn into the memory. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of being loved by Anne once again, if only for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Chris murmured, his voice filled with remorse, "I shouldn't have done that. You're not Anne."
"You're right," Ben pulled away, "I'm not Anne. But, I understand it's hard, but I'm your friend, and I want you to have this. To let yourself forget that, even for just a moment."
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