by Susan Willis
a glass of hot mulled wine
OMG, this is it! I
look at my partner, Neil across the table in the restaurant. I’m sure this is
going to be the pivotal point in our relationship. This is when he is going to
propose to me: I just know it.
We’ve had a great
meal and two glasses of a good red wine. My stomach felt too full of butterflies
to eat a dessert, but he has taken an age picking at cheese and crackers.
I take a deep
breath and relax my shoulders. I want to remember every tiny detail about this
special moment between us. Will he get down on one knee? Or, maybe he’ll slide
the little black box along the table for me to open myself. My heart begins to
race, and I feel my cheeks flush. I can’t see a bulge in his trouser pockets
where he could have hidden the box. But I suppose he could have taken the ring
out of the box with the intention of sliding it onto my finger.
He is shuffling on
his seat and I can hear the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the tiled
floor. He is chewing the inside of his lip then fiddles with the cutlery on the
table. After two years of living together I know his every move and can tell
what is going through his mind before he even thinks about it himself.
I’ve known this
wasn’t just going to be an ordinary Christmas Eve celebratory meal since I
spotted the little black box in a jeweller’s bag in his underwear drawer.
The box had been
sealed and even though as a little girl I’ve always loved a pre-Christmas snoop,
I’d gasped and backed away from the drawer. Apart from knowing there was no way
I’d be able to open and re-fasten the box without it being obvious, I hadn’t
wanted to see it. My mouth had dried, and I’d swallowed hard. No, I’d thought,
not this time. Mum used to say, if you snoop for pressies you’ll ruin the
surprise on Christmas morning. And she was right.
I’d known this box
was different. This wasn’t just an ordinary Christmas gift. This was the
commitment from Neil I’d hoped and prayed for since the week we first met. This
was the ring he’d chosen especially as a sign of his love for me. And only me.
It was too precious to spoil with childish curiosity.
I’d returned to
the ironing and let my thoughts wander. His brother and girlfriend had been
engaged two months ago and he’d helped choose the surprise ring at the
jewellers. He’d been enamoured throughout their surprise party and had relished
in his participation of the secret. A friend standing near us had chuckled, ‘So,
when is it going to be your turn, Neil?’
My insides had
churned, and I’d felt quite giddy as I’d stood with my arm through his.
Neil had grinned
and winked at him. ‘Ah, now that would be telling wouldn’t
it!’
Whilst hanging the
ironed clothes in our wardrobe I’d smiled at the memory and hadn’t been able to
resist another peek at the little black box. Last week, I’d found him whispering
with my sister at Sunday lunch, and then later secretively talking to my best
friend on his mobile. But I’d shrugged off this clandestine behaviour because
I’d done the same with his mother and his rugby pals looking for Christmas gift
ideas.
However, I know
now this Christmas gift isn’t about new pyjamas, perfume or my favourite
chocolates.
My hand is lain in
the middle of the table as if reaching out to him. I stare into his eyes looking
for a sign that he is going to say something profound. I tilt my head to the
side and raise an eyebrow.
He grins then
pushes his hand down into his jacket pocket which is hanging on the back of his
chair.
He pulls out the
small box wrapped in Christmas paper with a white bow on the top. ‘Happy
Christmas, darling,’ he says handing me the box.
I swear my heart
skips a beat. Here it is. His proposal. All my senses are heightened, and I feel
a little breathless.
My mind is
spinning. Why isn’t he saying anything other than Christmas wishes? Maybe he’s
going to ask me when I open the box.
I play along and
gabble, ‘Oooh, thank you, Neil.’
I lift the bow
from the top and rip the paper apart.
I take a big deep
breath and feel my fingers tremble as I pop open the box to stare down at red
earrings.
The slump in my
stomach makes me gasp aloud. Although I know it’s not possible, I feel like my
heart is shrinking.
Neil thinks my
gasp is of delight and grins at me. ‘Do you like them,
darling?’
I nod mutely,
thinking this is the worst Christmas present ever.
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