Last updated on October 22nd, 2025 at 05:41 pm
“To do what?” Angela says.
“To ask you to be mine,” I say, swallowing. I’ve spoken to and worked with many top brands as a photographer and business owner. I’ve learnt the act of confidence so much so that I barely get deterred by my fear, even though it’s always there. Asking Angela to be my girlfriend, soulmate, my partner seems to be by far the toughest request ever. I rub my palm on my trousers under the table, trying not to give off any sign of agitation.
“That word ‘mine’ seems cringe. I don’t know why. Like we’re referring to a possession.”
“Hmm, I can sort of understand.”
“Why are you nervous?” She asks.
“Are you going to hurt me this morning?” I ask, sounding pathetic even to myself.
“I flew all the way here to do that? Is it even possible?”
“What can’t happen, babe? Didn’t you see that tweet? The one I sent you? The babe travelled all the way to another state to serve the guy breakfast.”
“In her defense, she said they both knew that things were rough and she thought it made sense to have a one-on-one conversation rather than doing it over the phone,” Angela explains, laughing and looking so beautiful. There’s no doubt that she came here with the intention of raising my blood pressure. Everything she’s done alludes to it.
“Baby, is that the reason that you also came here?” I know that she’s trying to lighten the mood but I’m so nervous that I can barely think straight. The little moment we had after the frame got delivered yesterday also has me more antsy. Angela can be spontaneous and it’s sometimes difficult to predict her actions.
“Does it seem to you like things between us are rough?” She holds my hand.
“Babe, Sweetcakes, I can barely think straight right now. What if my own perspective is different? In many divorce cases, men are often blindsided—believing that things are smooth, whereas the wife who files for the divorce insists that she’s been sad.”
“Joe, calm down. We’re good. We’re good, okay? The past few months have been a blessing; every moment with you has been more than great, better than awesome. Splendid. I feel lucky, like the luckiest person.”
“I feel lucky too.” I whisper and exhale shakily.
“Are you scared because I once said no?”
“I guess so.” I nod.
“Baby, that was then. Realistically, do you think that we would have made it? Think about it.”
“We would have made it. It may have been rough, very rough, but the love I have for you would never be in question. I’d have always tried my best as I intend to do now. Just because we can look back in hindsight doesn’t mean we would have headed for doom. Even now, no one can tell what tomorrow has in store for us.”
“True.”
“Hmm.” I manage to mumble. “I’ll be back shortly, baby.” I stand and make my way to the gents. I need some minutes to calm myself, I’m in my head and tilting towards pessimism. As an entrepreneur, one thing I quickly learnt was to be optimistic and take nothing personally. It’s rarely about you; people have their own battles and concerns which are unrelated to you as a person. For every substantial yes that I got, I got more painful nos. I had to learn to toughen up, always improve my skills and remain humble—the real recipe for confidence.
I splash a little water on my face and take a deep breath. I remind myself that I’ll be fine regardless. When I’m a bit better, I wear my cloak of optimism—that last bit that doesn’t hurt in life.
As soon as I join Angela at the table, I hold her hand and cut to the chase, “Angela, it’s been a month and some extra days as we agreed, what do you say about making things official?”
“Yes, I am ready.”
“Wait, what? Just like that?”
“Yes, Joe. I want to make things official. This time, I want to enjoy everything that we can create. I’m ready, only if you are, though.” She adds the last part almost as an afterthought.
“I am. I am more than ready. Let’s do it, baby.” I almost scream. Angela has managed to have my poise shattered, and she just put it back together. I’m wrapped around her finger. “Sweetcakes, you have me wrapped around your finger,” I whisper, touching my forehead to hers.
“Love to hear it.” She says softly. The desire between us crackles as it surfaces again, a constant in the background. “Joe, where do we go from here?”
“Home? Check out of the hotel?” I kiss her nose. She gently hits my arm. I laugh. My lips find hers. My arm hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. She tilts her head, and we deepen the kiss. “I’m the luckiest,” I whisper after we end the kiss. More like something paused.
