I looked at him.
“Just be honest with me.”
He nodded.
“I can do that.”
And over time, he demonstrated that he meant it.
Three years after my wedding night, James proposed.
Not in a luxury hotel.
Not in front of a crowd.
He asked me during a weekend trip to a small cabin in the mountains.
We had spent the afternoon hiking.
I was wearing jeans, an old sweater, and hiking boots covered in mud.
He looked nervous.
When he took the ring from his pocket, I began laughing and crying at the same time.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He smiled.
“Very.”
I looked at him.
Then I said yes.
We planned a small wedding.
My parents were delighted.
Claire was my maid of honor.
There were no extravagant decorations.
No influential business families.
No elaborate financial arrangements presented at the last minute.
Just people who loved us and wanted to celebrate our marriage.
