Nora’s thoughts – snared, in her head – start to uncoil, as he says this last part. With gratitude. Because he is not mad at her. He is not even questioning her, not storming or crying or even demanding answers, and his mildness, his reasoning, his calm, even Robin-ness, is something she has always been drawn to, but she will not take advantage of that, she wants to keep talking, but to do so, she has to meet him on his level.
I guess it did throw me, Nora says. You buying a ring and all.
There is a pause, then. A stopgap, where she thinks he might laugh, pull her into him with one of his long arms. But instead he goes very still, looking out at the empty fields as he says that’s the thing, Nora. I didn’t.
A car drives along the road behind them, leaves a whoosh of silence in its wake.
Didn’t what?
I didn’t buy a ring.
And Nora thinks he’s teasing. Thinks he’s joking,April fool’s, but then he makes a pained kind of noise before turning to look at her, his mouth set. And he says he wants her to know, before he goes into it, that the reason he hadn’t told her before now is just that it felt so right, when it happened. And he didn’t want to take it back.
Take what back, Nora asks, and Robin breathes out.
I didn’t mean to propose, he says.
She hears him say it. Doesn’t understand.
It was a ring I’d picked up for a photo shoot, Robin says. You just found it in my pocket, at lunch.
But, Nora says, you asked me to marry you.
I actually didn’t.
I’m sure you did.
Trust me on this, Nora. I didn’t say anything. You found the ring, and said yes.
Sinking realisation, then.Oh god.
But the thing is, Robin says, shifting sideways to look at her straight, his eyes pleading, I had to make a choice, Nora. In those three seconds, I had to decide something.
Nora tries to stay with him; tries to focus.
And I decided there was no reasonnotto run with it. We weren’t going to do the wedding thing because you said you didn’t want to. Which was really your mother sayingshedidn’t want you to, I think. And we figured we didn’t need it, which we don’t, Nora, we don’tneedto get married. It’s expensive, and we love each other anyway, but I saw the … excitement, in you. Just for a second, when you thought I’d asked.
Nora makes a small noise, deep in her throat.
Because the truth is, Robin ploughs on, I’ve always wanted to marry you. And I could live with you not wanting to marry me, if that’s how you felt, but then you said yes. And it was happening.
Several crows take off from the far edge of the field, black wings against the sunset.
I’m so … embarrassed, Nora says eventually, after the crows are long gone.
Please don’t be, Robin says. I should have told you.
I can’t believe you went along with it, like that.
I’mecstaticI went along with it, Robin says, and his voice shifts to its usual, Robin-like cheer, and it is like the sun, if the sun had a sound, and it thaws the dread she hadn’t realised she’d been carrying, for weeks. Truly, Nora, he says. It was the best thing I never did. Thank you, misunderstanding. Thank you, universe. Thank you, three unprecedented yeses!
He yells this last part to the sky, trying to make her laugh, and it’s sort of working but she also feels like crying; thinks she is, in fact, as he cups his head again, like his own shouting has hurt his ears.
But if you’re not ecstatic, Nora? Robin says, lowering his voice once more. Then we can talk about that. Like we talk about everything.
He takes both her hands in his, and Nora can tell from his tone that he thinks he’s done it. Thinks he’s softened what was hard, cleared the clouds of what has felt heavy, between them.
Except we don’t, Nora says. Talk about everything.
