She let out a slow breath.
“You really think this is logical.”
“Yes.”
I knew it wasn’t, but I seemed to be doing a good job of convincing us both.
“You’re out of your mind.”
“That is possible.”
Silence settled again. This one was less volatile and more weighted.
“I won’t pressure you,” I said finally. “Consider it.”
Her eyes flicked up.
“I’m not deciding anything right now.”
“Of course not.”
“You just asked me to marry you.”
I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to herself or seeking clarity, so I just said, “Yes.”
She stared at me for another long moment. “You’re the strangest man I have ever met.”
“I am aware.”
She shook her head slowly. “This is insane.”
“It is practical.”
“Those are not the same thing.”
“They can be.”
She turned and sat in one of the kitchen chairs. “You’re serious?” she said without looking back.
“Yes.”A beat. “Think about it,” I added. “In the meantime, rest. I don’t want you to injure yourself further.”
She didn’t respond.
I returned to my study and closed the door. For approximately twelve seconds, I considered not informing anyone. Then I pressed the intercom.
“Geoffrey. Chandler. My office.”
Two minutes later, they stood across from my desk. Chandler leaned against the credenza. Geoffrey remained upright, hands folded neatly.
“You requested us,” Geoffrey said.
“Yes. I have proposed marriage to Ms. Blythe.”
Silence.
Chandler blinked once.
Geoffrey did not blink at all.
