Doctor Dearest

Then slowly, he bends down on one knee.

Right there. In front of everyone.

The world slows to a creeping halt. I falter and nearly miss the second step, but I catch myself before I go tumbling down the stairs. With my hand pressed to my heart, I laugh nervously and Connor shakes his head, glancing down to the ground for a moment before meeting my gaze again. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, but overall, he looks so utterly serious waiting for me down in the center of the path.

I know the down-on-one-knee thing should have tipped me off, but I don’t really connect the pieces of what’s happening until Connor reaches into the pocket of his pea coat and retrieves a black velvet box.

Suddenly I find it hard to even catch my breath. My eyes blur over with unshed tears and my throat burns. I can’t move forward.

Everyone has stopped. Runners, walkers, bikers. Everyone on the trail halts in deference to Connor’s proposal, and thinking that word is what finally turns the valve on my carefully controlled emotions.

Proposal.

That’s what this is.

Connor is so patient, waiting there for me to gather enough courage to continue down the steps into the park. Whispers run wild through the crowd. Murmurs turn into whistles and cheers. City noises—revving engines and squealing brakes and honking horns—blend together as I step onto the pavement and walk toward him.

I don’t stop until I’m right in front of him, looking down. He glances up, and the early morning sky, which seemed gloomy and gray only minutes ago, reflects brightly in his piercing blue eyes.

He stares at me with conviction like I’ve never seen.

Unabashed adoration and hope.

His hands—the steady hands of an ex-quarterback and world-renowned surgeon, hands that have held the lives of countless humans—are shaking with nerves.

I’m crying now, the sort of tears I’ll feel embarrassed about later, ones that will leave my eyes puffy and red, my throat dry and raw.

He doesn’t say a word before he cracks open the box and a twinkling band of diamonds gleams up at me. It’s small and dainty, something I can slip onto my finger and wear around the hospital without it getting in the way, a ring that will feel like an extension of my body.

“You might be wondering why I brought you here…to this spot,” he says, drawing my attention back to his handsome face.

“The couple,” I say, remembering.

He nods. “They were walking arm in arm, slow and steady, and when I saw them together, the first thing I thought was, that could be us. You and me.”

My hands wipe tears from my cheeks as I nod over and over.

“I love you and I want to spend my life with you.” He tugs the ring free, clamps the box shut, and pushes it back into the pocket of his coat before reaching out for my hand.

I can’t hold it steady. Stretched between us, it shakes with uncontrollable nerves up until he catches it in his grasp, warming it up and gripping it with gentle strength.

He holds the ring poised at the tip of my ring finger and looks back up at me. His brows are tugged together, his lips parted in a nervous smile.

“Marry me, Natalie.”

A half-sob, half-laugh breaks out of me as I nod yet again. He pushes the ring onto my finger, and the moment it’s in place, I leap toward him and throw my arms around him.

For the first few seconds, I’m only aware of the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, like I’m underwater, and then the crowd breaks through. There’s a chorus of cheers and whistles, whoops, and hollers. I stay pressed against him even as he stands, lifting me up so my feet dangle a few inches off the ground.

He’s kissing my hair, my cheeks, my mouth. We kiss with no regard for anyone around us. Not hot and heavy, but sweet and long, and I feel so overwhelmed with excitement, so near the edge of toppling back into a sea of happy tears that I’m glad Connor keeps his arm around me even after we break apart. He sets me on my feet and wipes my cheeks, kissing me again briefly before glancing out at the people gathered around us.

“I didn’t think about how many people would be here,” he whispers down at me, and I laugh, shaking my head.

Everyone has their phones out, and as soon as it looks like our private moment is coming to an end, they rush forward and offer to email us videos and photos. Looks like we’ll have 360-degree footage of his proposal, which I’m actually glad for because it’s only been over for a few minutes and I’ve already forgotten all the highlights. It all happened so fast in my mind and now I want to rush home and look at the photos. I want to see Connor down on one knee and remind myself that I’m the person he was waiting for.