London, November 2019
Roger proposed officially. A hand written letter, on paper embossed with matt yellow and pink gerberas, arrived on her birthday. The envelop was sealed with a real flower. She knew it was him, the moment she opened her mail box.
Expecting a birthday card, she opened it after settling down with her dinner. The handwriting was bold. It was not a long letter. As if he was afraid to spoil the beautiful paper.
"Dear Pari, Happy Birthday. I wish you a healthy life and may 2020 bring you all the happiness that you deserve. I think we should spend the rest of our lives together. If you agree, then I will stop by London. We can spend our second year-end together. And then, every new dawn."
That was all. There was no declaration of love, or 'non-survival,' if she did not consent, no reference to how 'well suited' they were. It was so unexpected and so 'him.' She read it a few times, to make sure she understood him correctly.
