After everyone left, Emily stayed behind.
I took her outside to the patio.
There was a small ring in my pocket.
I did not even get down on one knee. My knees had retired from that kind of heroism years ago.
I simply took her hand.
“Emily, I can’t promise you fifty years.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I know.”
“I can’t even promise twenty.”
She squeezed my hand.
“George, nobody can promise anyone tomorrow.”
I looked at her.
“Then whatever time we do have… will you spend it with me?”
She smiled through her tears.
“Yes.”
Not in a huge hotel.
Not in front of hundreds of guests.
In the backyard of my home.
Sarah stood beside Emily.
Mike helped me tie my necktie.
Emily’s mother sat in the front row, healthy again.
When Emily walked toward me, she was not wearing some glamorous designer gown or trying to make everyone in the room look at her.
