My darling, will you marry me?
Years of hints
I decided to ask
Is it wrong for a woman to ask first?

Disbelieving
His reaction
His breath heavy and heaving
Fidgeting in his chair

My face, sallow in its seriousness
Cast a cold shadow on his bones
His body turning away
The back of his head

In my veins moved oxygen pure
My breath calm and subdued
Knowing the answer before it was asked
Confirmation from his lips due

What does one do after many years?
Is it ok to force one into marriage?
Am I giving myself up?
Am I giving in?

My darling. Will you marry me?
You are the love of my life.
Will you marry me?
No, he said.