The Second Proposal
For a week we were engaged and almost nobody knew. We had selected a ring together, he had asked my dad, and he had secretly told his parents because he needed allies for the next part.
The clean mountain air was a welcome break from the St George Summer, our faces were aglow after a 4-wheeler ride through the pines. We couldn’t stop looking at each other, and we were both sure the rest of his family, whom we were spending the day with, would figure it out. There’s no way they couldn’t know with the light in our eyes.
When Justin opened the door to let me in for our ride home, the seat was already occupied with the most stunning bouquet. My mouth open, I looked at Justin who had his sly “I am up to something” look on his face. The fragrance of roses filled the car as we drove down the mountain. We watched the sunset’s orange fade to black, and Justin pulled to the side of the road as the night’s sky filled with star after star. He brought from the trunk glasses, and sparkling cider. He didn’t bring anything to open it with, and after several sheepish attempts, broke the top of the bottle. Cider streaming down his arm, he poured us a glass, and we gazed at the stars.
The sky was so filled, the stars looked more like smudges of light rather than individual spots, and when I turned to find him on one knee once more, they ran together even more behind my tears. He told me I was the only one and many other pretty things, and then he opened a box to reveal a shimmery engagement ring. I was sure the week before, and there under the starlight I was transfixed. From the first moment we met, Justin was so pleasantly different, special–I fell in love with him gradually and completely. Looking at him that night, I figured that was the pinnacle of love. I said yes once again, and we finished the night, hand in hand, my head on his shoulder, watching the stars.