“That’s the best part,” she would insist.
“It’s the handle,” I always argued.
She laughed every single time.
We stayed there until sunset talking about careers, a home, marriage, and the children we hoped to have one day.
Life kept interrupting those plans.
Jobs.
Bills.
Family emergencies.
Moves.
The years passed so quietly that I never noticed the dreams had begun changing for only one of us.
Eventually we shared a home, finances, responsibilities, and nearly every decision life threw at us.
Marriage felt like the final step.
Not because we doubted each other.
Because we had simply kept postponing it.
Still, I wanted the proposal to be unforgettable.
Years earlier Samantha had stopped outside a jewelry store and admired a simple engagement ring for less than a minute.
Then she smiled and pulled me away.
“We need groceries more than diamonds.”
She forgot that ring.
I never did.
