We had been seeing each other for a year, but our relationship was serious from the beginning. Once of his favourite phrases was ‘we’re not getting any younger’ and with that I wondered what was holding him back.
It was inevitable that some due nagging followed and he would offer placatory reassurances that I needed to be patient.
Also, he often said he wanted things to line up – I was not aware of his astrological leanings and yet there they were.
In December we went on holiday together to a resort in Mozambique and joked how we were having the honeymoon before the wedding. So when New Year’s Eve arrived I was ready. But wrong. When January ended I was ready. When Valentine’s Day arrived I was ready. On the anniversary of our first meeting. I was ready. All these times I was ready but WRONG and kept on wondering what still had to line up.
In March, he used a taunt, “Beware the Ides of March,” which really had me going and yet nothing happened.
By the time April arrived, I had given up on the idea and certainly did not want to become his April fool for love.
But on 2 April he was ready. The quaint Italian restaurant, the wine and the request to dress up a little were all clues to my man’s big moment.
So when he took out the little black box from his jean’s pocket and demurely said, “Do you want to get married?,” I looked around the restaurant and said, “To who?” I didn’t really, but I wanted to make the point that his proposal was a little mechanical. But instead I nodded with a tear in my eye and squeezed his hand.
I’ll be your April love for real ( and long may it last)… I smiled and look admiringly at the sparkling diamond on my bride-to-be appropriate finger and had another dainty sip of wine.