Those words would echo in my mind like a loud church bell. Those of the ancient times, the age of Vikings and what not. I would freeze, and hold onto the edge of the table. My smile still intact as my heart beats stupidly fast. All eyes on me in the midst of the far of dying ululations and the murmurs getting louder.
I swear it would be 30 seconds but it would feel like hundreds of years. I would onto not be able to talk and feign I have a lot of wine in my mouth at that moment. Then it would all start making sense.
How the day had played out into our best date yet. The horseback riding gig, the amazing walks and the lunch at my favorite spot.
That picnic place overlooking the beautiful ranges. I adored every bit of that view. Never mind the numerous pictures I had of them on my phone, of you cartooning all over the place. Yes it was the best date yet.
Then tonight when you ordered my favorite wine. I was in awe. Good mood, I chucked it all at that. I am smiley and bubbly all through till you lift your glass and take center stage.
At first when the few waiters that freeze on their tracks don’t give you away. Then when they give you room for the speech. At that moment I am numb and don’t know how to react.
The noisy business men you have been dissing all evening, stop devouring their scrumptious barbecue and pose their unending chatter.
The old couple beside us, murmur in local dialect. But I wouldn’t make out a word they said. I would try to regain my full concentration on the fact that you are saying amazing and kind words about me but scared of what you’d do next.
It’s not my birthday, I would rule out chances of a surprise cake. So what would it be?
I breathe in and out heavily. I can’t understand why the room is so still. Why all my nerves are awake and most importantly why his smile isn’t washing off like all the other times.
Then you will go down on bended knee as my cheeks fill up with warm blood, my veins soak up on my skin, goose bumps flood my arms. I’m numb and all I can do is smile at you. Why did you do this?
Will you take me? Will you marry me?
You ask. I don’t think I want to answer honestly in the midst of all this frenzy. The young guys cheering and shouting positive vibes. But still what is this?
Couldn’t you ask me first at the comfort of your studio or even my place. What if I embarrass us both or I can’t make it as romantic. My heart will fall into my heel. I would feel terrible.
“No. I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t. And you know why. ”
Rendition of will you marry me.
By Lilian Cherotich Misoy
Author My Truth My Escape