The silence in the truck had been thick enough to choke on, a heavy, suffocating cloud that stretched from the bridge where he’d dropped to one knee all the way back to the driveway of the apartment.

Frankie didn't even wait for you to clear the door before the dam broke. He didn't slam the door, he closed it with a terrifyingly precise click, but the energy coming off him was heavy. He was still wearing that nice jacket, the one he’d bought specifically because you liked the color, but it looked wrong on him now, like a costume for a life he wasn't allowed to have.

"Just say something," he snapped, his voice cracking on the last word. He paced the length of the small living room, his boots thudding against the hardwood. "You shook your head and you walked away. You didn't say a single word, and now we’re standing in our kitchen and you’re still just... you're just looking at me."

He stopped, chest heaving, his eyes bloodshot and searching yours for a roadmap he couldn't find.

"Was it something I said? Did I fuck up the speech? I know I’m not the best with the words, I know I get stuck in my head, but I thought-" He cut himself off, a sharp, bitter laugh escaping him. "Is it something I did? Is there someone else? Just tell me if there’s someone else, I can handle the truth, I just can’t handle the fucking silence."

"Frankie, no, it's not that-"

"Then what is it?" he pushed, stepping closer, his hands gesturing wildly before he shoved them into his pockets to stop the shaking. "Are you not happy? Because I thought we were good. I thought we were the best we’ve ever been. Am I not enough for you? Is this life-.. is me being a pilot, me being this-... is it not what you want for the long haul?"

You tried to reach out, but he recoiled, spiraling too fast to be touched.

"Maybe it was the place," he muttered, more to himself now, his mind racing through every detail of the failed evening. "It was too public, right? I should’ve stayed here. I should’ve done it here, on the couch, where it’s just us. Or was it the ring? Is it the ring? It’s too small, or it’s too much, or it’s just- fuck, I don't know."

He ran a hand over his face, his breathing hitching. The confidence was gone, replaced by a man who looked like he’d just been told his entire world was built on sand.

"I just don't get it," he whispered, his voice dropping to a raw, heartbroken register. "I’m sitting here trying to build a future, trying to give you everything I have left in me, and you won't even look me in the eye and tell me why I’m not the guy you want to wake up to for the next forty years. Why don't you want to marry me? What is so wrong with me that you couldn't even say 'no' out loud?"