Page 116 of The Mystery of the Moving Image

I glanced from his stony expression to the contents. My heart went from racing to a full, dead stop.

Calvin got down on one knee. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ve racked my brain trying to come up with a romantic lead-in to this….”

I made a weird sound. I think it was a cross between a laugh and a sob. It was really loud, and a few folks walking by glanced back at us in curiosity.

Inside the little box was a ring. Nothing fancy, because God knows fancy wasn’t an adjective associated with me. It was dark-colored. Subtle. Pretty.

Dillon was busy looping his leash around my legs as he paced.

“Are you serious?” I blurted out. I realized belatedly… that was probably not the response Calvin was hoping for.

But he didn’t falter. “I know you’ve got a soft spot, but nothing I came up with seemed all that original.”

“No. I mean, notno! I—the romantic—oh my God. It’s fine,” I said, stumbling over every word like English was suddenly a foreign language to me.

Calvin hesitantly smiled.

“You can just….” I took a deep breath and waved at him. “Ask me.”

His smile grew, lighting his entire face up brighter than I’deverseen. “Sebastian, will you marry me?”

No quotes.

No bullshit.

No wisecracks.

For once, I only had one thing to say.

“Yes.”