Page 131 of Not the Plan

“I can’t remember the last time I was in this much snow,” she said, reaching past the edge of the gazebo to catch some. She looked back at him, and the tension in his face stopped her dead. She took a breath to ask if he was okay, but he spoke first.

“I hope you’ll remember this time.”

He slid the cup out of her hands and got down on one knee in front of her, resting his hands on her thighs.

Every bit of her froze. There was a charge of adrenaline, her heart kept beating, but her mind stopped, her lungs failed to do their job.

“Isadora, I tried hard to think of exactly what to say to you, all the things I wanted to tell you in this moment, right before I ask you this question. But I couldn’t figure out what to say. There are so many ways you are everything to me, but I couldn’t make the words flow like I wanted. I’ll probably have to spend the rest of my life showing you how I feel about you, how much I love you, how much I need you. But that would make a really, really long proposal, and we’d never get around to actually being married. So. Will you—”

“Yes!” Air and her voice and her thoughts came back, and there was no slowing them down. “Yes, oh my God, yes of course! Yes!” she screamed.

“Are you sure?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes, I’m sure!” she shouted to the ceiling of the gazebo, tears filling her eyes. She threw herself into his arms, and he laughed again, pushing back to keep from falling.

“Oh my God, Karim. Baby! I love you so much!”

He pulled away, looking her in the eye and kissing her.

“I love you too, beautiful,” he said. “Do you want to see the ring?”

“Oh! Right! There’s a ring?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he helped her to stand.

“Yes, baby. There are often rings in this situation.” He pulled abox out of his pocket. White gold and delicate, the band was perfect, and the diamond much larger than she’d ever imagined for herself.

“Karim!” She gasped as he slid the ring on. “It’s amazing. But it’s far too much, it’s—”

“Shhh, Isa. It’s not enough. If you don’t like it, we can exchange it.”

“Exchange it? You gave this to me. Anybody wants to touch it, they’re gonna have to pry it off my cold, dead hand.”

He laughed.

“Are you sure, beautiful?” he asked. “You wanna be my wife?”

She looked up at him and stifled a sob.

“You wanna be my husband?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

She went up on tiptoe to hug him again and jumped as an enormous cry exploded from the house. Cheers and hooting and applause. His entire family was on the deck, hanging out of the windows, or coming toward them down the steps.

“Not too much, beautiful?” He picked up the thermos to go greet their audience.

She grabbed her mug.

“No, baby,” she said through a happy sob. Then she tripped, the contents of her cup splashing in his direction. He jumped back just in time.

They may have called you a victim,

but after everything you’re still here.

That’s not a victim. That’s a survivor, baby.