Chapter 03

He closes his eyes. Standing in front of him was his wife in a pink chiffon dress, looking at him fondly with her big doe eyes and the most beautiful smile.

“Come on, slow poke.” She motioned him over. “Your surprise is waiting for you.” His heart swelled with warmth as he loved her unique way of calling him over, always with the back of her hand towards the sky, fingers contracting twice in quick succession.

As she took his hand and interlaced her fingers with his, he caught glimpses of flower wreaths just behind the fence that usually marked the beginning of their yearly marathon runs.

They walked along the fence towards the flower wreaths. He saw that they were held by a giant metal arch decorated with balloons of his favourite colour. As they inched closer, he squinted to read the words chalked across the blackboard under the extravagant garland.

“Well, I guess it’s pretty obvious we’re not here to run, but I thought it would be pretty cute if I” – her hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, as she looked shyly towards the ground – “asked you to marry me here.”

“But –” He tried to chime in.

She clasped his mouth. “I know this is strange and everyone told me that this was a horrible idea because everyone usually waits for the guy to propose, but I kept thinking about it and I really love you – I mean we’ve been dating for a year now and I didn’t want to wait any longer and it’s weird to ask you to propose to me, but I don’t know –”

He gently grabbed hold of the hand vigorously covering his mouth. He lightly kissed the back of her hand, then her right palm, then her left palm. Before she could squeeze in another word, he gave her a few pecks on her soft lips and leaned in, embracing her for a more passionate kiss.

“I was just going to say,” he tenderly pulled away from the kiss and whispered into her ear, “that you beat me to it by a day.”

He reached for his phone in the back-right pocket of his running shorts and clicked onto the first photo in his photo gallery. Bold, golden block letters contrasted pink-hued skies underneath a similar pastel floral curtain arch, spelling, ‘Will you marry me?’

“I’ve been setting everything up on a very special beach, which is also why I’ve been coming home late the last few nights. I was going to dress a little better too.” He chuckled while tugging on his bright orange running shorts.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she threw her arms around him, explaining how worried she was that he was going to reject her and leave her alone in the park for the magpies to feast on. As he indulged in her silly worries, he caressed her cheek, taking note of every freckle, every mole, every feature on her face.

He opens his eyes. She was meant to be his forever.

He traces the outline of his wife on his phone background with his index finger as a notification chimes through, “PI: Here are the photos as requested.” He clicks on the notification. The size 12 shoes that most certainly do not belong on his size 10 feet, the extra toothbrush that sporadically appears in his bathroom, the smeared makeup she was returning home more frequently with – everything finally makes sense. As he scrolls through the photos, he feels his mind buzz, not from shock or disbelief, but from his mind coming to a standstill after months of confusion and uncertainty.

His staff member knocks lightly on the glass door of his office with a phone held firmly between his fingers.

“Sir, I think you should see this –”

“Piss off, Lewis,” he snatches his coat off the chair, stoops, and swipes his bag from underneath the desk.