Page 112 of Back to You

“Gotta be food poisoning. Nia and I tried that new place down the street for lunch —” at the mention of lunch he resumed gagging. Brandon waited him out, placing the washcloth on the back of his neck.

“I won’t ask what you ate. Let’s get you more comfortable.”

He helped change Ethan out of his suit and into his pajamas right there in the bathroom while Ethan communed with the toilet. He ran out quickly to turn off the oven, then came back into the bathroom to find Ethan laying on the floor in the fetal position.

“I’m dying,” he whispered.

“Poor baby. What can I get you?”

“A new stomach. I think mine went down the toilet.”

“Sounded like it. Let me grab you some water, I don’t want you getting dehydrated.”

Ethan groaned. “I can’t possibly ingest anything right now.”

“Just a little sip at a time. For me.”

He went into the kitchen and regarded the now-pointless dinner. Foiled again.

***

Brandon nursed Ethan through the food poisoning incident, biding his time until everything returned to normal. He needed a new plan.

Time to bring in reinforcements.

“Hey Michelle? Can I talk to you for a minute?” he said, sticking his head into her office.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

In response, he pulled the ring out of his pocket, opened the box and turned it toward her. She stared for a moment, then said, “Oh my God.”

“Yeah. I keep trying to ask him, but everything I do ends up garbage.”

“Oh my God!” She jumped up from her chair and ran around the desk, squealing the whole way. “Brandon!”

“Yeah, I know.” He accepted her hug. “Now help me figure out how to propose.”

Michelle grabbed the ring box out of his hand. “This is gorgeous.”

It was a simple white gold band with seven diamonds inset into the top. Ethan wasn’t flashy, and Brandon had wanted to do something elegant yet special for his engagement ring.

“It looks like him,” Brandon said simply.

“Aww. You did good. Now, tell me what you’ve tried and what happened.”

He sat and explained his two thwarted attempts at proposing.

“Let’s see. I would say you could bake the ring into something, but with your luck he’d choke on it.”

“Oh definitely. Something that can’t maim him would be preferable.”

They sat in silence and thought. Brandon had already been wracking his brain, and no luck.

“Nothing over the top and cheesy, I’m assuming,” Michelle said.

“God no. We’d both hate that.”

“What about proposing at Sunday dinner with the family?”

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