Page 104 of Indigo

“Nothing,” he replies a little too quickly, glancing back to where the waiter just disappeared while shifting in his chair.

“Pax,” I say softly, placing my hand on the table between us. “It was really sweet of you to set this all up for me for my birthday, and I love you for it, I do, but if you don’t want to eat here, let’s just go, yeah?”

His eyes snap back to mine, wide and panicked. “No,” he splutters. “No. I’m just…” He’s clearly thinking of an excuse for his behaviour. “I’m just thinking about an email I have to, um, return tomorrow when we get home, baby. Don’t let me ruin our night. I’m sorry.”

As the words rush out of him, I’m not sure if he’s lying or not. It’s my job to handle the emails, but it’s also not unusual for customers to contact him directly if they know him personally.

My gut tells me he’s keeping something from me, but I decide to let it go and see where the night takes us. I’ll get it out of him later, one way or another.

Half an hour later, our bellies are full and our drinks are finished, and then we begin to reminisce about the night that we sat in this very parking lot and started what would later becomeus.

Movement catches my eye, and I look over at the waiter as he makes his way back across the parking lot. I bet he’s hoping for a pay rise after all the walking back and forth he’s had to do this evening.

I grin from ear to ear as I see what he’s holding and glance over at Pax, who’s now sweating.

Fucking sweating.

How is that even possible?

“That looks like a damn fancy cupcake,” I whisper to Pax as we both watch the waiter get closer and closer, with what looks like a gold plated zippo lighter in one hand and the most decadent looking cupcake I’ve ever seen in the other.

“They, uh, wouldn’t let me bring my own, so I had to just pick one for their chef to make for you,” he says, his voice a little rough.

“Snobby pricks,” I whisper, trying to lighten the mood, still completely unsure why he’s acting so out of sorts.

The waiter arrives after a moment and places the cupcake down in front of me. I have no idea what flavour it is, considering the soft pink frosting is slathered on so thoroughly that it’s impossible to see the colour of the base. Tiny silver beads, that I hope are edible, are scattered across the top, and I cringe as the waiter leans in and shoves a long blue candle straight through the centre. Seems like a crime to ruin something so pretty.

He looks up at Pax, who nods to him in some kind of silent conversation, places the lighter on the table between us and then smiles for the first time tonight before leaving us to our celebrations.

Pax uses one hand to shield the candle from the slight breeze and lights it with the zippo. I watch curiously as he takes a deep breath, as if trying to compose himself, the flame of the candle flickering between us.

“Make a wish,” he says, his hand shaking a little as he places the lighter back down and watches me closely.

I keep my eyes on him as I lean in to blow, but before I get the chance, he does it for me.

I sit there, stunned for a moment, unsure at what just happened, and then break into a fit of laughter.

The nervous look on his face is back as I watch him through tear-filled eyes, still shaking with laughter as I say, “You stole my wish, Shepard.”

He visibly gulps, sits up a little straighter, and pats down the sides of his slacks. His hands move under the table, and he maintains eye contact with me as he places a shiny white ring box between us. “Want to know what I wished for?” he asks, and the air leaves my lungs.

After a moment of stunned silence, and my eyes darting back and forth between him and the white box, a smile forms on his face, and all that nervous energy visibly disappears before my eyes.

“Ask me,” he repeats, standing slowly, collecting the box from the table, and moving to stand beside me.

I lift a trembling hand to my lips and turn to face him as he tugs at the front of his slacks and lowers himself to the ground. As he bends one knee and takes the hand pressed to my lips in his, holding it tightly, I manage to choke out, “What did you wish for?”

“You,” he says simply. “Always you, Blue.”

A sob breaks free as he lets go of my hand and opens the box.

Staring back at me is the most incredible antique style, yellow gold diamond ring I’ve ever seen. I can’t breathe, can’t look away, scared that if I do, I’ll wake up.

When I lift my eyes to his, I see the love swirling around in his hazel irises, all for me, and he says, “I love you, Blue. I may not be great with words, but I promise I will spend the rest of my lifeshowingyou how much I do. Will you marry me?” I don’t miss the quiver of his lip or the fact that his eyes turn glassy as he waits for my answer.

He isn’t bad with words. Those were perfect.

“Yes.” The word is all I can manage, even though I want to tell him how much I love him, how excited I am to spend the rest of our lives together, and how grateful I am to have him.

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