I went to city hall ready to marry the love of my life, only to be told I was already someone else’s husband! I’d never been married. The truth unraveled a day later in my boss’s office, when his phone rang — and I recognized the name.
I stood in front of my parents’ graves holding a small velvet box. The grass was still wet from the night before, and the cemetery smelled like earth and rain. “I’m going to ask her,” I said to the headstones.
“I’m finally doing it.”
My voice sounded strange out there in the open air. I’d been coming to this spot every few weeks since I was eighteen, and I still never knew what to say. But today felt different.
Today, I needed them to hear me. Clara and I had been together for over two years by then. Just talking about her like that brought a smile to my face.
Life had finally started to feel right. My parents had died years earlier during an expedition somewhere in South America. They’d been archaeologists, the kind who couldn’t resist a mystery, and one day the mystery won.
I was completely lost when it happened. If it weren’t for Tom, my father’s old friend, I don’t know what I would’ve done. But earlier that year, when I turned 27, something changed.
I got access to my inheritance. It was a large sum. Larger than I’d expected, honestly.
Enough to finally imagine a future with Clara that included more than just daydreams. “I’ve been thinking about proposing for months. Maybe longer.
Maybe since the day we met.”
I opened the velvet box and held it out. The diamond threw tiny rainbows across my palm. “I hope you’ll bless this marriage.
I think you would have really liked her.”
The wind picked up, rustling through the trees behind me, and I chose to take that as a yes. The day I decided to propose, I asked Clara to meet me at city hall. I know, I know.
Not exactly romantic, right? But here’s the thing: we’d talked about marriage before. A lot, actually.
We both knew we wanted this.
She’d even joked about skipping the big wedding and just making it official. So, I planned my grand gesture around that. I brought a bouquet of white roses and pink peonies.
I brought the ring. And I brought every ounce of courage I had left in me. She was standing on the steps when I arrived, wearing that blue dress I loved.
She smiled when she saw me, but there was a question in her expression. “Andrew,” she said. “What’s going on?”
I got down on one knee right there.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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