"Lily Whitman, please do me the favor of saying yes and making me the happiest man tonight," I say, looking up at her with hope in my eyes.
She doesn't say anything. Not a word. She doesn't move either. I'm hopeful she's just shocked, so I ask again, my voice more earnest this time.
"Lily, my love, please, will you marry me?"
Her silence stretches on, and confusion begins to creep in. This isn't what I imagined. Instead of joy or even a polite rejection, she suddenly gets up and walks out of the dining room. The sound of her bedroom door slamming reverberates through the house.
To say I'm surprised is an understatement. I'm utterly devastated. What did I do wrong this time? This feels worse than the first rejection. My chest tightens painfully, and I can't bring myself to stand. I remain seated, trying to absorb what just happened.
