32. Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
23rd November 2022
T he weight of the world is on my chest, my palms are sweaty, my mind is spinning, and my heart is skyrocketing. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, counting to five as I inhale slowly, then releasing it just as slowly. I feel myself relaxing, but it's not enough. Then again, who wouldn't be nervous about proposing to the love of their life?
Planning the proposal was a minefield of decisions. Where? When? How? I never realised how much strategy went into asking one simple question, but I knew it had to be memorable. Laelia would be overjoyed with breakfast in bed, but I wanted to go beyond that. I wanted her to have a story she'd proudly share, one that would make others swoon. And let's face it, proposing next to a plate of scrambled eggs just wouldn’t cut it. This had to be perfect.
After countless hours of research and planning, I decided on a romantic dinner at her favourite Italian restaurant. Sure, it’s a bit pricey, but Laelia deserves nothing less. It's the kind of place where the food is as stunning as the ambience, where she can dress up and feel like the queen she is. This morning, I made sure she was pampered: a nail appointment, a surprise dress, the works. I didn’t even ask what the dress looked like because, honestly, she could wear a bin bag and still look like a goddess.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I lace up my black dress shoes. Tonight calls for black pants, a crisp white shirt, and my hair pulled back in a neat bun. Jeans and a band tee just won't cut it tonight—I'm aiming for smart, but not so smart that I give the game away.
As I finish, I grab my aftershave from the dresser, giving myself a couple of spritzes. When I turn around, I freeze. Laelia is standing in the doorway, and I swear the room itself just sighed. She’s wearing a deep blue, lantern-sleeved dress that hugs her in all the right places, with a split that teases just enough leg to drive me wild. Her hair is up in a high, messy ponytail, her eyes sparkling under a perfectly winged eyeliner, and her lips painted a rich oxblood red.
Looking at her feels like stargazing—an experience so beautiful it almost hurts. She takes three slow steps towards me in her matching heels, and I remain rooted in place, mesmerised. A new fragrance wafts over me—something floral and fruity, a scent that makes her seem even more like a dream.
She reaches up and unfastens the top two buttons of my shirt, her fingers brushing lightly against my skin. "That's better," she says with a mischievous smile.
I grin back at her, feeling like the luckiest guy on the planet. How on earth did I get so lucky?
During the entire car ride, Laelia's been peppering me with questions about why tonight's so special. She’s asked at least twenty, each one nudging my anxiety higher. My bladder feels like it’s about to burst, and I’m teetering on the edge of either wetting myself or throwing up. Not exactly the suave fiancé-to-be I imagined.
When we arrive, the chauffeur steps up to take my keys, driving the car away with a smooth efficiency that contrasts sharply with the chaos inside my head.
We step out into the night air, the restaurant’s lights twinkling like a promise. “You’re being mysterious tonight,” Laelia teases, looping her arm through mine.
“Just want to make this night special,” I reply, trying to sound casual while my brain is screaming Don’t screw this up!
The waiter leads us to our table—a secluded spot with a perfect view of the restaurant's garden, lit with fairy lights. I pull out Laelia’s chair with a flourish, and she graces me with a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down. As I take my seat opposite her, she picks up the menu and immediately makes a face that makes me chuckle.
She glances up, her eyebrow raised. “What’s so funny?”
“Just you and your menu face,” I reply, still grinning.
She smirks, shaking her head as she studies the menu. “I’m torn between two starters,” she admits.
“Same here,” I say, picking up my own menu. My stomach growls, reminding me that I’ve been fasting all day just so I can devour everything tonight. The food here is legendary, and if they offered takeout, I'd probably bankrupt myself ordering it every day.
“What are your top two?” I ask, hoping our tastes overlap so I can suggest we share.
“Mushroom Al-Forno or King Prawns,” she says, glancing up at me. “What about you?”
“King Prawns or Calamari,” I answer.
Her eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “What if we get all three and just be greedy? That way we can try everything.”
I laugh. Her appetite always outpaces her stomach, but tonight’s special, so why not? “You’re on.”
She blinks, surprised. “Really?”
“Absolutely. It’s a celebration, after all,” I say, hoping she doesn’t catch on too soon.
We dive back into our menus, both pretending not to be staring at each other over the top. “I already know what I want for the main,” she declares. “I’ve been dreaming about it all week. Just hoped they’d have it tonight.”
The restaurant’s ever-changing menu is part of its charm—and its challenge. But Laelia’s got it down to a science.
“What’s your pick, beautiful?” I ask, already anticipating her answer.
“Mixed Seafood Risotto. It’s my absolute favourite.”
“And for dessert?” I ask, a playful smile tugging at my lips, knowing exactly what she’ll choose.
She flips to the dessert menu, and I do the same, both of us smirking as we say in unison, “Tiramisu.”
“How did you know?” she asks, eyes wide with faux surprise.
“You’re like a bee to honey when it comes to coffee-flavoured anything. Plus, I know you too well.”
Her eyes sparkle with a challenge. “How well?”
I lean forward, lowering my voice. “You only wear red lipstick, you're addicted to coffee, when you’re concentrating, you stick your tongue out, and you like your eggs scrambled with a touch of pepper. And if I kiss you, nip your skin, or even trace my fingers over a certain spot on your neck, your breath hitches and you always let out this cute little moan.”
Her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, glancing around to make sure no one overheard. “Killian,” she mutters, half-scolding, half-embarrassed. “Not in public.”
I grin wickedly. “I’ll save it for home then. But be warned, you’re mine the moment we walk through that door.”
She licks her lips, and I can practically see the images flashing through her mind—images that send all my blood rushing south, making my pants suddenly feel much tighter.
“Anyway,” she says, shaking her head to clear it. Spoilsport. “What are you picking?”
“Cookie Dough,” I reply. “Anything chocolatey, I’m all in.”
She shakes her head, her smile contagious. “I should’ve known.”
The waiter takes our order and returns with a bottle of white wine, pouring it into our glasses before settling the bottle into a bucket of ice. He did give us a weird look when we ordered all the starters, but I assured him that anything we don’t finish, we’ll take home. No food left behind tonight.
Laelia lifts her glass, and I can’t help but notice the lipstick stain she leaves on the rim. It’s a familiar sight, one I’ve seen on countless coffee mugs at home and every takeaway cup she gets when we’re out.
As we toast, I feel my nerves slowly easing, the wine working its magic. But I keep myself in check—I can’t afford to get too tipsy. This proposal needs to go off without a hitch, and the last thing I need is to trip over my words or worse, fall flat on my face.
Laelia takes a sip of her wine and sets her glass down, her fingers lightly tracing the rim. “You’re really going all out tonight,” she says softly, her eyes locking onto mine with a warmth that makes my heart flip.
“Only the best for you,” I reply, reaching across the table to take her hand. The contact sends a jolt of reassurance through me, reminding me why I’m doing all this. It’s for her—for us.
She squeezes my hand, her thumb brushing against my knuckles. “You know, you didn’t have to do all this to impress me,” she says, her voice teasing yet tender. “I’d have said yes to breakfast in bed too.”
I chuckle, leaning in closer. “Maybe, but this? This is a night we’ll remember forever. And besides,” I add with a grin, “you deserve the best.”
Her smile softens, and in that moment, I know—tonight is the night. My nerves are still there, but they’re manageable now, drowned out by the overwhelming love I feel for the woman sitting across from me.
The waiter returns with our starters, and as the plates are set before us, I give Laelia’s hand one last squeeze before releasing it. “Bon appetite,” I say with a grin, trying to keep things light even as my heart races.
Laelia smiles back, picking up her fork. “Let’s see if this place is still as amazing as I remember.”
We dive into the food, and the moment I taste the King Prawns, I’m in heaven. The flavours are rich and perfectly balanced, exactly as I hoped. Laelia’s eyes widen as she tastes the Mushroom Al-Forno, a small moan escaping her lips, which doesn’t help my concentration.
“Good?” I ask, watching her closely.
“Incredible,” she says, closing her eyes as she takes another bite. “I could eat this every day and never get tired of it.”
I chuckle. “We might have to, with how much we ordered.”
We swap bites, each dish better than the last, and I can’t help but laugh at the sheer joy on Laelia’s face as we devour the starters together. The food is so good it almost distracts me from what’s coming next. Almost.
“Okay,” she says, leaning back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Confession time. Why did you really choose tonight for this fancy dinner?”
I pause, the question hanging in the air. My pulse quickens, and I feel the weight of the ring box in my pocket, a tiny but significant pressure. I know I can’t dodge this one much longer.
Taking a deep breath, I lean forward, meeting her gaze. “Because tonight is special,” I say, my voice filled with emotion. “Because I wanted to do something that shows you just how much you mean to me. And because there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time. So, Laelia…”
Just as I reach into my pocket to pull out the ring box, a sudden clatter interrupts me. My gaze darts to the side, and I see the candle on our table wobbling precariously. Time seems to slow as the candle tips over, its flame catching the edge of the tablecloth. In an instant, the fire ignites, and the flames begin to spread rapidly across the table.
“Oh my God, Killian!” Laelia exclaims, her eyes widening in horror as she scrambles back.
Panic surges through me. I fumble with the ring box, trying to stand and move away from the growing fire. The flames leap from the tablecloth to the centrepiece, consuming the bouquet of roses and sending thick, black smoke billowing into the air.
A waiter rushes over, his face pale with alarm, and grabs a fire extinguisher. “Everyone, please remain calm!” he shouts, his voice cracking under the pressure as he starts spraying the foam, attempting to douse the flames.
The once-romantic ambience is replaced by chaos. Other diners are standing up, some shouting, others trying to help. The fire alarm goes off, adding a high-pitched screech to the cacophony of voices and panicked movements. The restaurant staff scramble to contain the situation, but the fire has already done its damage.
Laelia stands by my side, her hand clutching mine tightly as we watch in stunned silence. Her face is a mix of shock and disbelief, and I can’t help but feel a sinking dread. The carefully planned moment I had envisioned is disintegrating before our eyes.
As the flames are finally extinguished, the damage is clear. Our table is covered in foam, the bouquet of roses is nothing more than a smouldering mess, and the restaurant is now the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. The smell of burnt fabric and smoke fills the air, mixing with the lingering scent of wine and dinner.
Laelia is trying to hold back tears of laughter, her eyes brimming with a mix of shock and amusement. Despite the disaster, her reaction is warm and endearing, a reminder of her incredible spirit.
My heart sinks as I look down at the ring box still clutched in my hand. I had envisioned this moment as perfect, but now it feels like a far-off dream. I want to make light of the situation, but the humour is overshadowed by my disappointment.
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my composure amidst the chaos. “Well, this certainly wasn’t how I imagined the evening going,” I think, feeling the weight of the ruined proposal settle over me.
Laelia bursts into laughter, shaking her head with a grin. “Only you could turn a romantic meal into a five-star disaster.”
Despite the embarrassment and frustration, her laughter is a soothing the sting of failure. She takes my hand, still laughing, and I can’t help but join in. The situation may be a mess, but at least we’re facing it together.
As we sit down on an unscathed part of the floor, watching the restaurant staff clean up, I can’t help but think about how this night will become one of our most memorable stories. My grand proposal may have gone up in flames, but the love we share remains as strong as ever.