The Proposal

“Will you marry me?,” he asked, as a matter of fact

Her eyes widened, the coffee cup hanging precariously at the edge of her entwined fingers, threatening to fall down at any moment.

She had thought of this moment for the past 5 years. Hell, she had rehearsed her reply a hundred times in front of the mirror. Just like the heroines in those romcoms she religiously watched on cable television during weekends, she would raise her eyes to him, nodding her head curtly, not betraying her happiness.

In reality, she could only mutter an incoherent “Eh”?

Not very romcomatic

“With the risk of being rejected twice, I’m asking you,  will you marry me?” he patiently asked, his eyes now fixed on hers.

“I umm.. what?” was her exact reply. “ I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes would be a perfect answer,” he volunteered

“Why?” she defiantly asked, a fraction of her brain now returning to work

“So we can get hitched, have children, fight with each other, crib about one another’s relatives, pay bills, watch tv, and grow old together” he replied.

“That is either the most romantic or the most unromantic proposal ever” she smiled

“So?” he looked at her with questioning eyes, she could see that the matter of factness was replaced by a searching look.

She took her time, her eyes rose to him, and she nodded curtly, trying hard not to betray her happiness….

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