“Simon, do you ever plan to marry me?”
“One day she’s going to get tired of waiting.”
He stopped halfway through taking off his shoes. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“Nine years, probably.”
He sighed. “Why does a piece of paper suddenly matter so much?”
“It doesn’t. I just want to know if you actually see me as your wife.”
“Simon, do you ever plan to marry me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why haven’t you asked?”
“You really want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t cook like you used to.”
I stared at him. “I asked why you haven’t proposed.”
“Why does a piece of paper suddenly matter so much?”
“And I’m explaining.” He lowered his voice, as if that made it kinder. “You complain all the time. The apartment’s a mess when I get home. Half the time I ask what’s for dinner and you tell me to make something myself.”
