he got down on one knee, right in front of me. Very softly, he said, “You could marry me.” At first I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. But then he said it again, this time louder. “Marry me.” He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a ring. A silver ring with a little diamond in the center. “This would just be for starters, until I could afford to pay for a ring myself—with my money, not my dad’s.”
