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"Get me one of the candied pineapple pieces," I say and she digs into the basket, searching for the non-existent candied pineapple.
It's a ruse to get her searching through the bottom of the basket, where I’ve deftly hidden the brilliant five-carat diamond engagement ring.
"I don't see any candied pineapple," she says, sounding slightly frustrated.
"Keep digging. I think there's a red box of it."
She searches, moving items out and pushing aside the stuffing. Then she finds the small red box.
"Here it is," she says, and frowns. "It's awfully small."
When she sees the inscription, she realizes what it is.
"Cartier?" she asks, glancing up at me. "What's this?"
"Open it," I say, barely able to hold back a grin.
She does and, of course, inside is the ring. It's a simple solitaire, five carats, flawless.
"Jon!"
She stares at the ring, her hand over her mouth. Then she looks in my eyes.
"Are you serious about this?"
I nod solemnly. "Yes," I say. I pull her into my arms and we lie together while she continues to stare at the ring. "I've never been more serious in my life."
Then, because she's continuing to stare at it, I take the box out of her hands and remove the ring. I take her hand and slip the ring on her finger.
"India, you are the love of my life. I can't imagine not spending the rest of my life with you by my side as my partner, as my lover, as my wife. I love you. Will you marry me?"
She examines the ring on her finger. Then she looks up at me, her eyes filled with tears.
"Yes," she whispers, and throws her arms around my neck. "Yes, of course I will. I love you."
We kiss and, despite the fact that we've both only recently had mutual orgasms, my body and mind can't get enough of her. Less than six months earlier, I was afraid I’d lose her. I couldn't imagine letting her go.
Now, I never have to.
THE END
