“Do you see yourself marrying me?” He had asked out of the blue.
Her heart skipped a beat. She turned to look at him, but he was looking down, studying his palms.
“Why do you ask?” She replied as nonchalantly as she could.
“Nothing. You once said you weren’t the marrying sort. Thought I’d just ask what you think now.” He started to dig under his nails.
She thought about her answer for a long while. He turned to look at her, worried.
“Well, I haven’t actually thought about it. But I have toyed with the idea of living with you, in our own home. Does that count?”
“It’s a good start,” he said and smiled what turned out to be her favourite smile, the one that crept up his left cheek and softened his eyes. Then he stretched over and gave her hand a firm, warm squeeze.