“Did you just propose on a napkin with a ring you stuffed in a guy’s eye hole?” I blink. My mouth opens. Nothing comes out for a moment that feels about as long as eternity. “You know, it seemed pretty cute in my head, but in hindsight … maybe it’s too much?” She shakes her head. “Not enough?” She shakes it again, a few tears jostling free of her lashes. “Just right?” “It’s fucking perfect,” she sobs. “Oh, thank Christ.” A long breath whooshes from my lungs as I press my palm to my chest.
