Page 62 of Not The Man I Thought He Was

‘Would you mind taking off your sunglasses for a moment? I want to see your eyes.’

I edge them up onto the top of my head. Toby looks so severe that I feel a bit unnerved.

Without warning, he slides out of his seat and goes down on one knee. It takes me a moment to realise what is happening. I totally wasn’t expecting this.

‘Madison, will you marry me?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘I’ve never been more serious. I love you, and I would be the happiest man alive if you agreed to become my wife.’

I know it’s cruel, but I just can’t seem to help myself. Suppressing the joy bubbling up inside me, I twist my face into what I hope is a thoughtful expression.

‘I don’t know, Toby. Marriage is a pretty patriarchal concept. Do we buy into that?’

He looks absolutely mortified. I can’t keep it up.

‘Of course I’ll marry you! Yes!’ I tell him. I bend down and kiss him passionately.

Some of the other diners have obviously realised what’s going on and start applauding. Toby gets to his feet and beams. He pulls me to my feet and envelops me in a passionate clinch. I can hear the other diners still applauding and cheering, but they feel far away, as if they’re in another room. All I’m aware of is Toby and me.

A polite cough from behind me brings me back to reality and, somewhat reluctantly, I break off the kiss. It’s the waiter, obviously wanting to take our order.

‘I think a glass of prosecco, don’t you? We can celebrate properly with champagne later,’ Toby suggests, as we sit back down.

He places the order and I grin stupidly at him. Suddenly, a thought occurs to me that wipes the smile off my face.

‘Wait. Sorry, Toby, but we need to do this properly. I know it’s ridiculous, but my father will expect you to ask his permission before you can propose to me. It won’t change my answer, but you’ll have to ask me again after you’ve asked him.’

‘Relax.’ He smiles. ‘I spoke to him yesterday and he gave his blessing very happily. I think your mother is already planning the guest list.’

It’s fair to say that my father didn’t like the sound of Toby at all when I first told him that we were dating. ‘Freelance photographer’, unsurprisingly, didn’t count as a real job to him, and he warned me about getting involved with ‘some loser who will probably just be a drain on you’. It was only after he’d Googled ‘Toby Roberts’, and I’d explained that Toby earned comfortably more than I did, that he changed his opinion. The fact that Toby has always been polite and deferential to him helped, and now he thinks Toby is very good for me.

‘How long have you been planning this?’ I ask him.

‘A while, but I was having trouble coming up with the perfect proposal. If I’d dragged you up a mountain or anything like that you would have been suspicious, and I wanted it to be a surprise. In the end, I decided to keep it simple. Was it a surprise?’

‘Total surprise! I’m so happy, though.’ Another thought occurs to me. ‘Hang on a minute. Aren’t you supposed to give me a ring?’

‘I struggled with that so much,’ he tells me. ‘I looked at loads, but I couldn’t find one that I was absolutely sure you’d love. And then I thought, we’re going into this incredible partnership, and it seems wrong to start out by me imposing my choice of ring on you without you getting a say. Also—’ he grins ‘—if you’d have said no, I would have had to go through all the rigmarole of taking it back for a refund.’

‘Who said the art of romance was dead?’ I smile at him. ‘So, what’s the plan?’

‘We eat our lunch, drink our prosecco, enjoy each other’s company, and then I thought we could go and choose a ring together this afternoon. What do you think?’

‘That sounds absolutely perfect.’

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