Even David was there. He finished uni in the summer and moved to Edinburgh with Freya. New job at a tech startup, new flat, new life. The world doesn’t need me propping it up at every corner. I’m still learning what that leaves me free to be. Miracles happen.
I grab the bucket and push through the double doors.
Ava’s already tucked into the back row. I sit down beside her.
‘Here.’ I deposit the bucket in her lap.
She snuggles against my side, her head finding its usual spot on my collarbone. ‘What are we watching?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Absolutely not.’
I’ve run this moment through my head a hundred times. The words. The timing. The exact position of her hand in mine. But now that we’re here… There’s no script for this.
The lights dim, and the trailer begins playing. I should get down on one knee, but it’s way too narrow here. I’ll be stuck between the rows until Christmas.
‘Ava.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Eat more popcorn.’
She laughs, confused. ‘What?’
I nudge the bucket towards her. ‘Dig in. I got extra butter.’
She gives me a suspicious look but reaches into the bucket. Her fingers burrow into the kernels. I stop breathing.
Her hand stills.
‘What…’ She pulls out the box. The bucket tips, a cascade of yellow kernels skittering onto her lap, but she doesn’t notice. She’s staring at the velvet. ‘Scottie. What is this?’
I watch her. The way the light from the projector catches the planes of her face. How her grip slightly trembles holding it. How it finally dawns on her.
‘Open it.’
She does. Her lips part. No sound comes out.
It’s simple. White gold, a single small sapphire flanked by two tiny diamonds. I spent two months with a jeweller in Stirling designing it. The sapphire matches her eyes when she moans my name and tells me she loves me.
‘I was going to make a speech. Had this whole thing prepared. Finn helped me, so you can imagine how awful it was.’
She chokes out a sound that might be a laugh or a sob.
‘But I’m shite at words, Ava. You know that. So here’s the short version.’ I take the box from her shaking hands. Remove the ring. ‘Will you be my best friend and my wife?’
The silence stretches. She looks at the ring. Then at me. Her eyes are swimming, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.
‘Marzipan,’ I add. ‘Please say something before I have a cardiac event.’
‘Yes!’ She hiccups on the word. ‘Yes. Very obviously yes.’
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits. Of course it fits. I stole one of her costume rings ages ago and had it sized. Her fingers lace through mine. The gold is on. She’s still here.
And then she throws herself at me.
God, I love it when she does that.
