We ate slowly under the stars and the warm night breeze. The city was alive with thousands of lights below us, enhancing the romantic mood I’d tried my hardest to set. Ava complimented the food, but her usual sparkle was dimmed. She wasn’t teasing me or giving me any sass.
There was no flirtatious back and forth that typically led to us pawing at each other like crazy. I watched her closely between bites, noting how she pushed her potatoes around more than she ate them. She kept drifting inward. She was present, but not fully here. I was starting to worry about the right timing to pop the question…
When she finally leaned back in her chair and placed her napkin on the table, she exhaled. “I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite.”
I reached for the ice bucket. “Should I pop the champagne?”
She hesitated and then laughed. “Why are we having champagne? We usually just guzzle down some beer on Tuesday night.”
“We do…” I took a deep breath. “Well, Ava…” Jesus, what happened to the cool guy who was confident about popping the big question? He seemed to have taken a dive over the terrace rails.
I cleared my throat. “We do have something to celebrate… I mean, Ihopewe do.” I gave myself a mental smack on the head.
Ava frowned. “Lincoln, are you…”
Her eyes bulged slightly when I pushed my chair back and got on one knee. I pulled the box that I’d been carting around for weeks from my pocket.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed.
“Ava,” I said, my voice steady despite my nervousness kicking back in. “I know we’ve officially been back together for a few months, but this doesn’t feel fast to me. It feels like we picked up where we left off.”
Her eyes shimmered, wide and locked with mine.
“I’ve always loved you,” I continued. “Even when we were apart. Even when I tried to convince myself I had moved on. But there was never any moving on from you, from us. You were always the one.”
She inhaled sharply.
“I meant it when I said at twenty-one that I’d marry and give you the world. I just… didn’t get the timing right." My voice became thick with emotion. “But I have my chance now, and I’m taking it. Ava, will you marry me?”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her face lit up with pure joy. Her lips parted, and I was sure she’d say yes. I got ready to slide the ring on that special finger and pop the champagne. However, her expression crumbled. “Lincoln, I can’t…”
I blinked.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The silence that followed was deafening and painfully awkward. I was still on one knee with the ring box open, and starting to feel like I’d made the wrong move. I shut the ring box with a snap that sounded extra loud in the quiet. I felt foolish. Had I misread how things were going between us this whole time? Slowly, I rose to my feet with disappointment weighing me down.
Ava stood too, her movements hesitant and her expression twisted with regret. Her lips parted, then closed again, as if she couldn’t find the words to say what she wanted to. Finally, she said again, “I’m sorry.”
I stared at her, trying to make sense of what was happening.
“Lincoln, I need to… think,” she said.
I wanted to ask what she had to think about. We’d already been through the wringer and found our way back to each other. Wasn’t that enough? The distress in her eyes stopped me from pushing. She looked as if she were on the verge of unraveling. A strange mix of anger and sympathy flooded me.
She turned and dashed away, but I stayed frozen. Even when she came back with her handbag, I couldn't move.
“Where are you going?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I just need time,” she returned, her eyes landing everywhere but on me. Then she left.
Every instinct screamed at me to follow her. But for what? To demand answers? Grovel? Beg her to stay? To force her into something she wasn’t ready for? I deflated with a resigned sigh. I had to let her go.
Heartbroken, I sank into the nearest chair and stared at the little box in my hand. Was this how Ava had felt twelve years ago when I walked away from her? Was this payback?
But that didn’t make sense. Ava loved me. I was sure of it. One couldn’t just fake what we’d had since we reconnected. Something must have happened. But what?
As much as it hurt, I knew her well enough to give her the space she asked for. So I pulled out my phone and sent her a text, simply requesting that she let me know she was okay.
