We’d met on a dating site
because, of course, we did.
Our long-distance talks
led to late-night video chats.
Earlier this summer, I shifted
my commitments for love’s sake.
Amy couldn’t move, so I did.
We’d laugh on the oak deck,
listening to soft rock
and poking fun at passersby.
Amy’s tiny frame fit into mine.
I rearranged life’s commitments
for a hit-or-miss whirlwind romance,
wondering whether picking up
and leaving everything I knew
for a place where rumors swept me
away with a drift of infidelity had a grain of truth.
Waiting until it’s too late to know
gaslit my intuition over the ashes of my pride
fanning the flames of insecurity.
Amy slipped through the door after dark,
tiptoeing over the wood floor.
I sat in the living room chair
and switched on the desk light,
“You’re up,” Amy said as though she’d seen a ghost.
“You’re home,” I said as though I’d caught an angel in the act of bringing bad luck.
“I know I haven’t been the best partner lately.” Amy raked her hands through her hair and blew out her lips.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Dad surprised me with our new home. I’ve been there getting everything ready.”
“Oh…” I’m sure my face reflected my stupidity.
“Did you think I was cheating?” Amy rested her hands on her hips and tilted her head.
“And here I thought the home was your surprise.”
“That’s where I go on my lunch breaks. I help your dad with the house.”
We both laughed.
“Some surprise,” Amy said.
I embraced her. “Your father said yes.”
“Yes, I can have your hand in marriage.”
Amy held her hands close to her and sobbed in my arms. “Some surprise.”
Twitter – @AC0040
(© 2023 AC)
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