“Marry me…”

Maybe it’s wrong to propose at someone else’s wedding, but Natalie and Pete are in their own little bubble on the head table, sickeningly feeding each other cake, and Richie can’t help it as you come running back to your table after dancing around the dancefloor with your son.

Your beautiful son. Seventeen, taller than his mother, twirling you round and round as you both laughed, and now you return to Richie, flushed and out of breath, chugging down water like a toddler as you watch the others on the floor still.

Richie never thought he would be a family man, but he feels like one now as he strokes a hand up and down your back, grinning like a cat as you stare up at him in utter shock.

A proposal.

Richie has everything he needs and more. He’s got you, he’s had you since he was twelve, maybe with a little break in between but he’s never gone more than a week without speaking to you. And he’s got your son, Alfie, who’s been around since the two of you were seventeen, a surprise little miracle, but a miracle nonetheless.

And he has Tiff and Eva, his ex-wife and his daughter who you’ve taken so well to, who you treat as though she were your own daughter without crossing the boundary.

And you’ve gravitated towards each other again so easily, living in that little apartment, eating together, sleeping together, actually communicating.

You’re everything he could ever ask for.

And you’ve only got better with age.

He doesn’t put on some big, grand show. He doesn’t get down on one knee. He just says it so casually and stands there, looking down at you with a smile.

An honest smile. One that means so much, and tells you how much he really knows you, all in one.

Because of course you’ll say yes.

What have you got to lose?

His big, warm hand still hasn’t left your back, stroking big, soothing circles around the broad expanse of skin. His hand crawls up, up, up to the base of your neck, fiddling with the hair there in the way he knows makes you preen.

Richie has never not been in love with you. It’s so clear to everyone around you. And more eyes turn to the two of you slowly as he repeats it again, pulling a little engagement band from his pocket.

Not in a box. Warmed by the skin of his tender hands.

“I said marry me…”