The perfect moment.

Three months’ salary, apparently the required amount to spend on these things. As hard as it had been to save the cash, the ring was beautiful. It was perfect and there was no way Claire wouldn’t love it as much as I did. Now I just needed the perfect moment to accompany the perfect ring. All my planning was finally coming together, the stage was set. Rose petals strewn across the porch, candles lit a path down the garden to where I would be waiting for her, crouched on one knee. The romantic proposal she had always craved.

There had always been a special connection between us, some may say fate had brought us together. Since the first moment my eyes had met hers, I had been beguiled by her. They were bluer than the clearest summer sky and that moment seemed to last an age. Time stopped, there was only the two of us and no more. Eventually the world began to spin once more, I cursed it.

             “Is anybody there?” she quizzed, waving her hand Infront of his transfixed eyes. She giggled as I returned to full awareness. That giggle, wow!

             “I’m sorry, lost myself for a sec there,” I replied. It immediately occurred to me that this was not the greatest of introductions. “I’m Jay, pleasure to meet you.” Cue awkward silence. I desperately scanned my entire vocabulary, which would usually have been extensive, for anything to say. Nothing, not a thing. My throat became dry with nerves and I’m not certain I could have spoken in that moment even if the words hadn’t betrayed me.

             “Just a dry white wine, when youre ready.” She purred. I breathed a sigh of relief that she broke the silence before I made a fool of myself, she had always been kind like that. This was clearly not her first drink of the evening, dropping her bank card on the bar as she turned to return to her friends. I approached the group and returned the card; she was certainly grateful.

             “Oh my god, thank you so much sweetheart,” she hopped to her feet and kissed me on the cheek. Not just any kiss, one of those kisses you still feel etched on your skin weeks later. From that night on we were connected. The more I got to know about Claire the more I loved her. Her love for travel, we had visited many of the same places. Her adventurous side, rock climbing and abseiling. She spent her last birthday skydiving with friends, which I had always wanted to do myself.

             Over the next few weeks Claire sent me a load of messages and visited me at the bar most days. I had a history of jumping into these things with both feet and was determined not to repeat that mistake again. I played it cool, I didn’t respond to her messages and just served her drinks with a smile. Friendly, but not too much. My plan was to keep her coming back for more, it worked like magic. Slowly but surely the conversations grew:

             “What can I get for you?”

             “How’s your day been?”

             “Do live local?”

             “Can I kiss you?”

Okay so the last one didn’t happen, but I really wanted to ask it. The way she would look at me, keeping eye contact for just long enough to keep my interest. She was playing games and I knew it, and I liked it. It was only a matter of time before I succumbed to her relentless flirting.

             We had an undeniable attraction and tension between us that I hadn’t experienced before. As the clock ticked closer to 5pm, when her shift was over, I found myself door watching. Most nights would end in disappointment, which was hard to take. Those nights that she glided through the door though, my heart skipped a beat. I would find myself grinning to such an extent that my face hurt. She was more than perfect. She was mine.

             A few weeks passed before we went on a proper date, I met Claire after work, and we went for a lovely romantic meal at her favourite restaurant. The conversation flowed accompanied by plentiful wine. She laughed all night long, seeing her happy completed me. Her smile was a masterpiece, a work of art. It truly took my breath away.

             Before long we were inseparable, I would meet her from work most nights and walk her home. She chatted endlessly, not that I minded, and I listened intently and hung on her every word. Her voice was like the sweetest of songs, a melody I knew I would never tire of hearing. We made plans to travel, see the world. Her zest for life was inspirational and I couldn’t help but be swept along in a wave of blissful love. This was love, just like you read in the books and see in the movies.

             I had known for some time that Claire was the one, the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I would dedicate every breath in my body to bringing her happiness. I had planned to wait until our anniversary to ask for her hand, but why wait? Being with Claire I had to learn to read between the lines. She was always dropping hints and never straight to the point. I translated this as her way of letting me take the lead whilst directing things herself. Genius really. She would read wedding magazines, started keeping a scrap book of dresses she had seen, flower arrangements and picturesque venues that wouldn’t look out of place in a fairy-tale. She was telling me she was ready, without telling me she was ready.

             So, there I was, patiently waiting for the love of my life. This would be the moment that everything changes for the better, a crossroads on life’s highway that fate has led us to. I peered through a small gap in the garden fence, scanning the area for my bride to be. As she arrived home and opened the small gate at the end of the path I sprang into action. Quickly I lit the candles that would light her path to me and took up my position on one knee. I had never been so nervous, yet so sure, in all my life. Any moment now Claire would walk through the back gate and our lives would change forever.

             The latch twitched as she tightened her grip on it, then twitched again as she let it go. This wasn’t the plan. I returned to the gap in the fence. Claire was fumbling in her bag searching for something, keys, of course it was keys. The plan was still on, just modified. Once she was inside the house, I just needed to get her attention, a little gravel thrown at the window should do the trick. I had to move in a little closer, throwing things from a distance was problematic at best. I quickly armed myself with a small handful of stones from the pathway and scurried to my new position outside the kitchen window. In no time at all the lights all came on at once.

             “SURPRISE!!!!”

             I almost jumped out of my skin. As I sneakily peaked through the window, I could see the house was full to the brim with people. I had no idea she was inviting people over, or that we had so many friends. Claire was overcome with emotion; I could just about make out some voices from my perch.

             “We all know how you haven’t been feeling yourself recently, so we got together and arranged this little surprise for you darling,” I think that came from one of the older ladies, maybe future mother-in-law. She seemed to have centre stage.

             Little surprise? She beckoned Claire toward a large, actually massive, ribbon tied box in the middle of the room. This thing was the biggest gift I had ever seen, I hoped whatever was inside wouldn’t overshadow the surprise I had in store. I watched with intrigue as she neared the huge parcel and reached out a hand to grasp the ribbon. It almost fell off and wrapping paper and cardboard cascaded to the floor. The crowd enveloped the area the mysterious parcel had been. I couldn’t see for all the guests bustling around. I scanned the room for Claire, she had dropped to her knees in all the hullaballoo but was making her way back to her feet. Her hand covered her mouth, I could see tears in her eyes. She was hurt, she needed me.

             I trampled through the rose petals to the kitchen door. Although my plans were ruined all I could think about was making sure Claire was alright. I entered the kitchen unnoticed and joined the rabble in the living room. As I pushed my way through toward the centre of the room, I saw him. Dressed head to toe in military uniform, a man, on one knee, open ring box in hand.

             Claire nodded and through her tears screamed, “of course I will!”

             “You can’t Claire,” I interrupted, the words flew from my mouth before I had really comprehended the situation.

             “Who the fuck are you!” bellowed the soldier as he rose from his knee.

             “I have no idea who that is Matt,” Claire protested, a lady slipped in beside her and whispered something in her ear,” oh my god your right, its that creepy guy from the bar, what are you doing here, how do you even know where I live?”

             “I, I, I love you,” I wept so hard it hurt.

             “I, I, I’m calling the cops” mocked soldier boy.

             I panicked and ran, a few of the crowd tried to grab me but I wriggled my way free and scarpered through the kitchen and back out into the yard. I opened the gate and slammed it shut again, finding safety in the shadows behind a large tree. The soldier followed shortly after, mocking my petal and candle display. He closed and locked the gate and returned to the house.

             I sat. heartbroken. Confused. Angry. Furious. that bitch had taken my heart and stomped it into the ground. I could see them all, congratulating the happy couple, laughing and joking. How dare she use me like this. She forgot though; I knew things she didn’t know I knew. Things like the spare set of keys in the flowerpots next to the shed. Things like the fuse box by the back door that needed to be fixed but had to wait until payday, tomorrow incidentally. Things like the left-over wood stain stored under the balcony from last autumns decorating. Your home will be your flaming casket and you will rue the day you broke my heart.