Page 92 of A Play For The Heart
“Let’s go,” she declares, swinging the door open.
“No one can say I didn’t try,” I mutter under my breath as I follow her out the door.
Sawyer
“Comeon,” I yell, dragging Henry behind me by the hand. I swear I saw something in the distance. I’m determined to see the first whale. I may or may not have squealed when Henry suggested doing another whale-watching tour. The last one was so much fun, and after living with Maren, my love for the ocean has increased tenfold.
I came prepared this time. These eyes will not miss a single whale. My binoculars hang around my neck and the book Maren gave me for Christmas about whales sits in my purse. Plus, I found this great sweater at a thrift shop with whales on it. I snatched it up the moment I saw it, specifically for this. It looks like something my grandpa would wear, but it’s charming and the perfect whale-watching sweater. Obviously, I’m wearing my rain boots to complete the outfit since we're on a boat.
Overall, I would rate my outfit a ten out of ten. I was bewildered when Henry begged me to change before we left. I look great. I nailed the whale-watching theme. I didn’t want to hear him argue, so I shut him up with a kiss and walked out. He muttered all the way to the car about regrets, but I have zero regrets about this amazing sweater-binocular combo. If anything, I regret not trying to find the same sweater for Henry as well.
“Sawyer, it was the reflection of the light,” Henry grumbles as I drag him to the railing. “Let’s go back to the other side.”
Geez, someone is grumpy this morning.
I snap the covers off the binoculars, putting them up to my eyes, peering out at the horizon. I’m confident I saw a blast of air. Now I only need to scan the area, and hopefully, I can find…
“Henry, look!” I yell, turning back to look at him. That was definitely air from a blowhole, and if he looks fast enough, he can probably spot it.
My breath gets lodged in my throat at the sight before me and the potential whale I may have spotted goes away with the Dodo. Down on one knee, Henry holds a small velvet box in his hands. Behind him, I can see all our friends attempting to hide in the enclosed section of the boat and a photographer starts to snap photos of us.
My hands immediately begin to shake and tears spring to my eyes. Henry grabs my hand with his empty one, entwining our fingers together.
This cannot be happening. Not in my whale sweater.
Suddenly, I understand why Henry wanted me to change. I like the sweater, but not an outfit I would choose to get engaged in. I can only blame myself. At least the photos will tell a story.
“The moment I met you, Sawyer, my life went from black and white to technicolor. The past four years with you, as best friends and as more, have been the best of my life. You complete me. I love you more and more each day if that is even possible." He chuckles and continues. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want the ups and downs, the good and the bad. I want it all with you. You’re my lighthouse, always guiding me home. My beacon of light in the darkest of days.”
The tears stream down my face as I attempt not to hyperventilate. Not in a million years had I expected Henry to propose. Not now at least. He’s told me multiple times that it was only a matter of time, but I hadn’t thought it would happen so soon. Since we moved in, he brings up a different future scenario every day. Buying a house. Getting a dog. Having children. I had to nip the last one in the bud quickly before he got any grand ideas. I want children, and Henry would be an amazing father, but we’re twenty-five. We have plenty of time for all that.
“Sawyer Jones, will you marry me?”
He looks up at me with love and adoration in his eyes as he opens the small blue box. I choke out a gasp at the sight. Set on a dainty, gold band, a beautiful purple stone sits surrounded by tiny diamonds. It’s exactly what I would choose for myself.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, the shock of the whole ordeal catching up to me.
“Is that a yes?” he asks, nervousness fluttering across his face.
“Yes!” I yell, leaning down and pouncing on him, toppling him over. I pepper kisses all over his face as I nearly squeeze him to death.
The moment I say yes, our friends pour out of their ‘hiding spots’, hands full of champagne, cheering us on.
I peel myself off Henry and he helps us both up off the boat deck. Grabbing my left hand, he slips the ring on my finger. It fits perfectly, not something I expected. I figured most people have to have it resized. I lift my hand in the air, admiring the ring.
“How?” I ask. My brain still hasn’t caught up with what’s happening and it’s still processing the concept of being engaged. It understands it happened, but it hasn’t accepted it yet.
Henry understands immediately, chuckling as he wraps his arms around me from the back, admiring the ring with me. The purple stone glistens in the September sun, the light reflecting off the smaller stone surrounding it.
“Maren helped. She stole a ring from your room so I knew the size, and then she stalked your Pinterest and sent me options.” I move my hand back and forth, in awe of the beauty and grateful I had my nails done earlier this week. “Once I had the idea, Maren helped me have it made. She says everything is ethically sourced.”
I look over at Maren, who is popping champagne with Nathalie. She looks over at me and winks. I’m not surprised in the slightest that she was in on it. She loves scheming. Even more, I’m glad Henry asked her for help. She knew that a ring being ethically sourced was important to me, and she made it happen. Sometimes I don’t know how I got as lucky as I did with a random roommate. Maren walks over, two glasses in her hand, handing us each one.
“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you,” she says, tears welling in her eyes. I break from Henry's grasp, pulling her into a hug.
“I love you, Maren,” I whisper into her ear.
“Love you, too.” She pulls back, wiping the tears away. “Now let’s celebrate!”
