It wasn’t the proposal she ever imagined, or wanted. It would have to do.

She wasn’t getting any younger, not that that was any excuse, but it still made her feel vaguely better about herself.

Really, though, she was distressed. Distressed that stupid, stupid Andy had been brainless enough to propose to her, and in front of everyone they knew! More importantly, she was distressed that she had said ‘okay,’ betraying herself and the only other person that mattered.

She was engaged now, but she could only watch D, clearly as distressed as she was, wander away to sit somewhere. She barely registered the congratulations, and had to remind herself to sound stern when she answered Kelly’s question. Her head was swimming, and she needed to go away somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere that Andy wasn’t, anywhere that D wasn’t, anywhere that she could be alone with her bitterness and her sorrow, somewhere that she could pray for forgiveness.

She moved through the darkened office slowly, silently, her hand trailing over his desk as she passed. This had been the wrong place to come to pray, she realized, but she couldn’t stop herself. She slid one finger over the edge of his desk, his supplies, his keyboard, his locked drawers. She still had the spare key to those drawers, hidden under her pen cup. She could feel the tension in her head and her body, could feel the imminent tears, and had to walk away.

Settling herself in her desk chair, hidden away from everything and everyone, she let herself cry quietly for just a moment, and then took out her handkerchief and cleaned herself up. She was a grown woman, not some romantic sentimentalist. She tried to tell herself that as she stood up, bracing herself to go back outside and stand next to her fiancé.

When she turned around, he was there. Standing in the shadowy doorway of the office, he was watching her.

“D…” It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, sounding strangely like a sigh of relief.

“Angela – ” But he stopped himself. She knew he needed to say something, but he was holding back for her sake. After all, he was a good man with good morals, and he knew that she was engaged now. But she wanted to hear it. She knew that she needed to hear him say it, more than she needed to be alone, more than she needed to pray, more than she knew needed to bear her burden.

So she moved to him, slowly, so unlike her normal brisk pace and clipped steps. When she was in front of him, she tilted her face up to him. “Please, D.” She could tell that she wasn’t far from tears again, and she blinked, trying to keep them at bay. “Please.”

“Don’t marry him.”

Angela could feel herself almost smiling at the words, and though it shamed her, she couldn’t help it. And when he reached down and pulled the gaudy ring off of her finger, her smile only grew. He flung Andy’s ring over his shoulder into the darkness, and then took her hands in his own.

“Marry me.” Not a question. No weak stance, down on one knee. No gaudy ring. No music, no microphones, no fireworks or carnival games. Just them.

It wasn’t the proposal she ever imagined, or wanted. It was perfect.