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Friday, March 2—London
Up for something special tonight?
It’s Richard.
Special, uh?
Like what…?
It’s a surprise
I’ll pick you up at seven
I didn’t say yes
But now you have no choice
’Cause you’re too curious to say no
You know that’s going to make me die of curiosity
I know
I’m evil like that!
Yes, you are
See you tonight, x
Something special, uh? I wonder what it could be. After six months of dating, Richard and I are in a good place. We have an easy, uncomplicated relationship with no drama whatsoever. We’re in love and it’s great. I never thought I’d say, “I love you,” to anyone after Jake, but Richard made it so easy for me to fall for him.
I spend half of the day imagining what this big surprise is going to be. So far, Richard hasn’t been the surprise-type. I check the calendar, but I haven’t forgotten my birthday or his birthday. It’s just a regular Friday night, nothing special about it. So what’s up with him?
When I get home, Amelia’s waiting for me with a keen expression on her face.
“How was your day, honey?” she asks.
I shrug. “Mostly like any other.”
“Oh, it’s going to get better.”
“What do you mean?” Why are people talking in riddles today?
“There was a delivery for you.”
“Where is it?”
“In your room.”
I dash into my room. An amazing dress is draped on my bed with a Post-it note on it that says, “Wear me.” Next to it, there’s a dock station with another Post-it saying, “Play me.” This is a surprise date version of Alice in Wonderland. What are we celebrating, my Very Merry Unbirthday? I wonder if a white rabbit with a ticking clock is going to make an appearance soon to tell me I’m late, which I kind of am considering it’s already six. Well, at least I won’t have problems choosing what to wear. I’m intrigued. Where’s Richard going with this?
I push play on the dock station and it’s The Blues Brothers soundtrack. I smile, thinking back on our first date at the film club.
To the sound of ‘Everybody Needs Somebody To Love’, I hop in the shower while dancing and singing like a maniac. I’ll give it to Richard: he knows how to set the right atmosphere.
I quickly blow-dry my hair and step back into the room. Now, ‘Do You Love Me?’ is on and I can’t help but shake my booty to the melody.
“Having fun?” Amelia asks, leaning against the doorframe.
“Much. Did you see this dress?” I slip it on. “It’s a dream.” It’s a navy midi-length dress with a see-through hem and shoulder straps. It has blue floral appliques and beads all over. It’s gorgeous. “My blue suede pumps will look great with it.”
“Yeah, I think that was the idea.”
I twirl in front of the mirror, excited. “What do you say, hair up or down?”
“Up, but loose. If you give me a comb, a hair band and ten bobby pins I can pull the perfect bun off in five minutes.”
“Yes, madam.”
I give her everything she asked for. Amelia starts by backcombing the base of my hair, then pulls the back half in a side ponytail that she transforms into a side bun, and finally, zip-zap, she pins the rest of the hair on the bun in a perfectly-messy fashion. As promised, I’m red carpet ready in five minutes.
“Wow! This is super. Thank you, Ames.”
“You’re gorgeous.”
I put eyeliner on, a generous quantity of mascara, blush, and lip-gloss, so that when the bell rings, I’m just about ready.
I shut off the dock station. “I’m going.”
“Have a great night.”
“I will.”
“And be home by midnight,” Amelia yells jokingly after me. “Or, don’t come back at all.”
Outside, Richard’s waiting for me next to a black cab, wearing a tux. He looks dashing. As I throw my arms around his neck to kiss him, he hands me a white rose.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I take the rose and smell it. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Shall we go?”
As I step into the cab, nerves attack me. Richard has gone to a lot of trouble to organize this night and I have a feeling the surprises aren’t over yet. Suddenly, a horrible thought pops into my mind. He wants to ask me to move in with him. Dylan asked Amelia a while ago and she’s moving out of my apartment soon. But Richard and I are definitely not ready for such a big step; we’ve been dating for as long as they have, but it’s been casual dating, nothing too serious. I throw a side-glance at him and he smiles.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Be patient, we’re going to get there soon.”
“Haven’t I suffered enough?”
He buffets my nose with a finger. “Poor you, look at the state of you,” he mocks me.
“Okay, I’ve definitely had worse days. But you know how curious I am.”
The cab stops in front of The Dorchester.
Richard gives me his hand to help me out of the cab.
“You’re joking,” I say as I stare at the building. “This is the most expensive restaurant in London.”
“It’s a special night; it called for a special place.”
“What’s so special about tonight?” I ask, the nagging worry poking again at my stomach. This whole thing is screaming serious relationship, commitment, moving in together. And I’m definitely not ready for all of that. Not yet.
“I got a promotion today; I wanted to celebrate with you.”
So this is it. We’re celebrating his promotion. I relax at once. Oh, Richard. He has style.
The restaurant’s amazing, dinner’s amazing, and Richard’s amazing. We eat a seven-course meal with wine pairing, and by the end of the night, I’m more than a little tipsy. My head’s spinning a bit, so when Richard suddenly gets incredibly serious, I don’t immediately grasp the meaning of what he’s saying.
“…these have been the best six months of my life. I love you so much, Gemma, I couldn’t contemplate spending a day away from you.”
I nod my head in assent. This is all very nice. A bit over-dramatic, maybe. But hey, who am I to complain?
“And this is why I want to make sure I don’t… have to spend a single day away from you.”
I keep nodding. Where’s he going with this speech? And why is he being so melodramatic? The penny drops when he gets up, rounds the table, and drops to one knee.
Oh gosh! No, this isn’t happening. Panic clutches my throat and my head starts spinning, for real this time. The entire room is swaying around me. I’m going to be sick. What’s Richard doing on one knee? Well, there aren’t many things a guy in a tux would do down on one knee in a Michelin-starred restaurant. The other patrons gasp, and the entire room stops to watch us.
I stare at Richard in horror. Is he really doing this? I watch in slow motion as he picks a blue velvet box out of his jacket pocket and opens it. Inside, there’s a ring.
“Gemma Dawson, will you marry me?”
I smile a nervous smile; tears prickle my eyes. Not because I’m overwhelmed by joy, but because now I’ll have to break up with him. I can’t marry him. Where did he get the idea that we’re marriage-ready at this point in our relationship? We’ve never even glossed over the topic. Tears stream down my cheeks. I try to speak, but I’m choked with emotions and I can’t.
“Look how happy she is,” a woman nearby says. “She can’t speak.”
If only you knew why, lady.
As I try to speak again, the crowd starts clapping and cheering in support. I look at Richard, his eyes warm with love, his forehead dotted with pearly beads of sweat, and his lips parted in a hopeful smile. I can’t break his heart. I just can’t.
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” I hear my voice say.
Richard slides a beautiful solitaire onto my finger and suddenly my hand feels heavier than it has ever been before.