We are sitting in my car waiting for the clock to tick 7:30. We have a reservation at a restaurant my sister in-law recommended. When she said this place was big and fancy she wasn’t bluffing. I have never been this nervous in my whole life, how can he stay this calm!? This is the big night. Only if he knew what was going to happen, that we were going to start our future together. He’s just looking out the window watching people; I can’t believe he isn’t nervous; this is a big, fancy restaurant. I grab his hand to reassure myself and to make sure he is really okay. He seems okay but there’s something off about him, then I realize he’s uncomfortable. I can’t blame him, I am too. We are standing at the curb in front of the restaurant, I go to grab his hand but he hesitates— he’s scared? That just makes me want to grab his hand even more. Am I the one who is making him feel this way? Why did I have to drag him here, this is all a mistake. How could I do this to him? Should I go through with this, if this is the way he feels? I snap out of my little internal conflict, somehow we ended up inside the restaurant. “May I help you to gentlemen?” the lady at the podium said. I leaned in and whispered “Baker proposal,” so only she could hear me. I really don’t want to be here anymore and neither does he. She smiles and walks away saying “Follow me, Sir.”
She leads the way to the center table. My sister in-law said that they always put the “soon to be engaged couple” in the center so everyone can see the beautiful scene. This is horrible what was I thinking!? Why did I have to pick this place? Out of all those other restaurants, I had to pick the one that puts you on the spot. Can I just leave? What if he says no? Oh I don’t want to think about that word right… why is this so hard?
A waitress comes to our table to take our drink request. Looking at the types of drinks they have, I went straight to the alcoholic drinks, I knew I shouldn’t be drinking, but I feel so uncomfortable. I pick the Hard Red Wine. I’ll just drink a little. She rushed to the kitchen, trying to make up the time spent at our table. The wait was unbearable; we didn’t even talk, so when she came back I was so relieved. Placing the wine glasses on the table and pouring the wine she asked if we were ready to order. I ordered the lobster and fried potatoes. He orders the same thing, I don’t know why he did, he doesn’t like potatoes. I’m too caught up in thinking I haven’t talked to him at all tonight. Should I talk to…A voice snaps me out of it.
“This was the best date we’ve been on in the six years we’ve been together.”
Oh God here I go, “I was hoping for that.”
There’s a twinkle in his eyes…A tear?