The person videoing says, “Oh my god! She’s staring at this dude.” The camera widens to capture d’Artagnan’s expression. “Look at her face. She can’t take her eyes off him.”
She captures him rising from the chair and follows him as he walks up the stairs, narrating, “Oh, wow! He’s in the military…. She looks stunned like she didn’t know he was here…. Could this be a military surprise homecoming?”
She zooms in on us. “He’s talking to her. I wonder what he’s saying? Probably how much he has missed her. How in love with her he is. How he can’t live without her.”
He speaks to the emcee, and the girl says, “He’s bidding on the wedding gown!”
Then he drops to his knee, and the girl squeals softly. “Oh my god! He’s proposing!”
That’s when Tiara jumps to her feet, and the girl un-zooms so she can capture her reaction. Tiara’s face contorts in anger. Her fists balled, hanging by her side. The girl snickers into the phone and whispers, “Oh dear. Mama’s not happy! But these two are so in love. Look at them! It’s so obvious they belong together!”
“Have you lost your freaking mind?” Tiara shouts, and the girl dies laughing, then she yells at her. “Sit down, you old bitch! You’re ruining this beautiful moment!”
Then she zooms back in on d’Artagnan, putting the ring on my finger, and captions our kiss with, “Ladies and gentlemen, that’s what true love looks like.” And then, the video ends.
I stare at my phone, dumbfounded by what I saw. It was like watching a video of two lovers sharing an intimate moment. We were oblivious to everything happening around us, and although the commentary wasn’t accurate, it fits the video. He was so tuned into me, and I totally melted in his arms, sucking his tongue down my throat! I groan, embarrassed.
DING! DING!
I jump again and look at my phone. The number isn’t familiar. I swipe to read it. There are two texts. The recent one reads:
Hey, beautiful.
I hope you’re wearing
the hot pink dress with
those rocking high heels.
Cause Mmm!
I blush, knowing that ‘Mmm’ is going to be in his eyes all night, and I made the right decision to wear my new thong under my pink dress.
I scroll up to read the first text d’Artagnan sent in the elevator earlier:
Your blush is beautiful.
Speaks the truth.
I’m honored.
How about we have
dinner tonight, and
tomorrow night, etc.
I want to know everything
about you. Everything.
I think you are perfection.
Oh, God! I take another deep breath. I’m not sure how to feel now. He clearly intended to continue seeing me, but he had an engagement ring in his pocket for another woman.
BONG! BONG!
Did you fall in?
