Letting Go with a Slice of Cake

The place is packed, the noise echoing throughout. It is enough to put me on edge, to make me want to run and hide, escape from the world. I know I can’t. Tonight is too crucial for me to turn inward. Rumors about tonight have been circling for weeks, though I haven’t given them much thought. I can’t bring myself to do so. To allow me to think such things would give hope and hope is what kills you. That is the one life lesson I have carried over. I glance around the room, trying to recenter myself against the commotion.

“Are you alright?” His voice is safe, warm against the flesh of my ear. I am instantly grounded, brought back to why tonight might be the night that changed everything in my life. I’ve been in this circumstance before, twelve years earlier. The nightmare of my past is still prominent in my head, a trauma I can’t shake.

“Yeah,” I murmur back. I’m trying to keep my voice from shaking. I fail. It reveals everything about myself I don’t want to. His hand immediately finds the small of my back, and I move toward him. The warmth of his hand is comforting, and I find myself craving more. I know he knows I’m lying, but I know he won’t question me further. He knows about my past. He knows about my trauma. He knows when to leave me alone, to let me remember the past before moving forward.

The hostess comes, leads us to our immaculately set table, and then disappears. Even over the noise, I find myself shocked at the scene. This is more than I could have ever imagined. In truth, I’ve never felt worthy of a setting like this. I know a reservation was made for this, and it’s more than we would ever spend normally. It gives more credence to the rumors I’ve heard. Tonight is the night my boyfriend is going to propose. Panic rises in me, but I try and suppress it. I breathe through it, telling myself this is what I wanted. And it is. I adore Jack. He’s the best thing about me, but there is still trauma there. He pulls my chair out for me, and I gingerly sit, making sure my little black dress doesn’t ride up, exposing more of me than I want. I’m not usually one to wear dresses, but this place requires it.

I watch as Jack takes his own seat across from me, unbuttoning his jacket as he settles into the chair. It’s adorable, the great suit moving with him, accentuating every muscle he has. I can’t help but be impressed, though I’ve seen this countless times before. We’ve been together for two years now. I know every inch of him. “You know you didn’t have to do this, right?” I can’t stop the question I’ve been thinking about since I found out we were coming here.

“I know, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to.” His words cause my heart to skip a beat, lodge in my throat. Love swells, filling me with more than I have felt in years. I know this is what it is supposed to be, but I can’t let myself hope that much. I’ve been hurt before. “Order whatever you want. Tonight, I want you to be happy.”

The words cut through me, and it takes everything in me to hold back the happy tears. Anxiety is bubbling over, but I want tonight to be everything he has imagined it to be. Jack deserves that. I nod. He fills the silence with talk of work, the upcoming deadlines he is facing. This is a normal conversation and comes naturally to me. I know what is expected and what to say in response. Soon our entrees are brought out, steak and chicken respectively. They look delicious, and I can’t help sighing in delight as the chicken melts in my mouth. This is how food is supposed to be prepared. Before I know it, dessert is coming out, tiramisu for Jack and a slice of chocolate cake for me. I am beginning to relax, thinking my suspicions must be wrong. The waitress smiles, setting our deserts down, but something is unsettling in the look.

In a split second, I feel that every eye in the place is on me, staring us down. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, pray the blush isn’t spreading throughout my body. I know this will be the moment. Without hesitation, Jack moves from his seat, fumbling in the inner pocket of his jacket for what I expect will be a small box. Tonight is the night he is going to propose. Everyone on his team and of his coaching staff has said as much in code when we pass. I freeze, shock plastered on my face. I want to scream, ‘No!’. I want to run from the place, but I know this is the progression of how things should go. This is what we’ve been working toward, and, deep down, I don’t want it anyway but this. I know Jack is my person, but the trauma.

“Erika, I know things haven’t always gone according to your plan. I know this relationship has had its own up and downs, but I love you. Would you make me the happiest man on the planet and agree to marry me?”

I’m not surprised by the question, but still, I am filled with shock. Tears spring to my eyes, and I am nodding before I realize it. “Yes,” comes out in a voice I don’t recognize, a hoarse whisper that is foreign to my ears. Before I know what I am doing, I’m in his arms, kissing him gently on the lips. I want this. For the anxiety that wracks me, the remainder of the trauma and failings of my past relationships, I know this is right. Jack is the man of my dreams, and I can’t help but say yes, the slice of chocolate cake sitting untouched, consumed instead by emotions.