Nathan has invited me over to his new apartment for a romantic dinner. It's the first time he's had me over since he's moved into his new place. While I like his former roommate, I'm really glad my boyfriend is now living on his own.
He's made one of my favorite dishes -- a Moroccan chicken recipe -- and lit some candles for ambiance. Oddly enough, Nathan isn't eating. He's picking at his food. When he sips his wine, his hands are shaking.
"Is everything okay?" I ask between bites.
My boyfriend takes a deep breath. "I have something to ask you."
I take his hands in mine. "Did you have another fantasy you wanted to share? Tell me. I love hearing them."
One of the bedrocks of a successful, healthy relationship is clear communication, which is why I encourage Nathan to share his fantasies with me. Also, every single fantasy he's shared has made my temperature spike.
He takes another deep breath. "No, it's not that." Nathan pauses before speaking. "Before I met you, I struggled with certain parts of myself. The submissive part. The part that gets turned on by hypnosis. And you...you love all of me. You make me feel free. You make me feel safe. And you're kind, and caring, and ethical, and... I could go on for hours." He pauses again. "What I wanted to ask you is if you'd give me the honor and enormous pleasure of being your husband."
While I'm processing that last part, Nathan stands up and walks over to my chair. He pulls out a small black velvet box from his pocket and sinks to one knee.
My heart stops beating for a moment. When it resumes, it's pounding uncontrollably. My breath is coming in gasps. Hot tears are obscuring my vision, so I can barely make out the diamond ring in that black velvet box.
I fly out of my chair and throw my arms around him. I'm sobbing as I say, "Yes! Yes!"
Nathan's strong arms envelop me. "I love you, Ro," he murmurs.
"I love you, too," I sob. I pull away and wipe my face. "I got your shirt wet. Sorry."
He grins. "It's okay. I can take it off."
I burst out laughing, and he starts laughing, too.
"Here, let me put this on," Nathan says as he slides the ring on my finger.
Now that I'm not sobbing, I can see the ring more clearly. It's a large rectangular solitaire -- simple, elegant.
I stand up and hold the ring up to the candlelight. "It's beautiful. It fits perfectly, too."
Nathan stands behind me and slides his arms around my waist. "My grandmother has slender fingers, just like you do. I figured it would fit. And I got it cleaned. I wanted it to sparkle..." His voice trails off.
I crane my neck to look up at him. His blue eyes have gone vacant. His strong jaw has slackened. I gently remove his arm from around my waist and turn to face him.
He blinks, then groans. "Oh, did I seriously just go into a trance from staring at your ring? Of all the cliches... how many stories have we read about someone who gets hypnotized from staring at a piece of jewelry? And it's my grandmother's ring. Shouldn't that be weird that I'm going into a trance staring at my grandmother's ring?" He furrows his brow.
I consider what he's just said before responding. "Well, maybe your subconscious knows that it's my ring now. And your subconscious loves going into a trance for me."