My eyes immediately scan the surroundings when we enter. It’s beautiful. The waiters are all dressed in tuxedos. The restaurant is all white, with splashes of black, silver, and a deep cherry red throughout. It screams class and money. I’ve never been to a place so swanky before. I’d hate to see what it costs to eat at a place like this.

“Reservation for two under Thompson,” Marks says to the maître d.

“Right this way,” he replies with a pleasant smile. My eyes are darting around the room as we walk across the restaurant floor, heading towards the outside terrace overlooking the harbour. Mark pulls out my chair when we reach the table. “Thank you,” I say as I take a seat. He places a soft kiss on the top of my head when he pushes my chair in. The maître d spreads a white linen napkin on my lap before making his way around to Mark. I’m not complaining about being here, but again I wonder what the special occasion is.

When we’re alone, he reaches for my hand across the table and I smile at him. He really is easy on the eye. It brings all of my worries to the forefront. Can I really let him go? Can I allow Carter to waltz into my life after being absent for five years and disrupt everything?

“You okay?” he asks. I love how caring he is towards me.

“I am. It’s lovely here. Thank you for bringing me.”

“Only the best for you, sweetheart,” he replies pulling my hand towards his mouth and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. It makes my stomach churn as guilt consumes me. Again I’m plagued with doubts. Doubts on whether I can give up what I have with Mark for an uncertainty. Doubts if I can let Carter go. Carter shouldn’t even be on my mind when I’m here with Mark, but he is.

When the waiter comes over to take our drinks order, Mark orders a bottle of their finest wine. His mother usually frowns upon me when I drink. “Drinking alcohol isn’t very ladylike,” she has said to me on numerous occasions. A wine here and there never hurt anyone. She can be such a pretentious cow sometimes.

Usually when we’re out with them, which thankfully isn’t very often, I don’t order wine anymore. His mother has a way of making me feel inferior. Like I’m not good enough for her son. Tonight though, I actually welcome the alcohol. It may help me relax a little.

The waiter pours a tiny amount into each glass. I hate how they do that. Mark picks up his glass and swirls the liquid inside before bringing it to his nose. I almost want to laugh. He wouldn’t know the first thing about fine wine since his family are non-drinkers. God, some rich people can be so fake. It’s all a show. It’s a two hundred dollar bottle of wine. How bad could it taste? Finally he takes a sip and nods, so the waiter proceeds to fill both our glasses.

As soon as he walks away, I lift my glass to my mouth and take a huge gulp. “Easy there,” Mark chastises. “It’s expensive wine. You’re supposed to savour the taste, not guzzle it down.” I roll my eyes at him before taking another gulp. I’m not interested in the taste. The faster I drink this baby, the quicker the alcohol will be pulsing through my veins.

“So what’s the special occasion?” I ask. I’m curious. He never usually goes to this much trouble on a date.

“All in good time,” he says with a wink. Great. Now he’s going to make me hang out. I’m not a fan of surprises. He smiles at me before looking over at the maître d’ and nodding his head. What’s he up to? I find out soon enough when a violinist appears at our table. Of course he stands right next to me when he starts to play. It’s not like I hate the sound of the violin or anything, but with this headache it’s like nails on a chalkboard. He may as well be bashing me over the head with the damn thing. It would have the same effect.

Mark reaches for my hand, giving it a light squeeze. I plaster a smile on my face. I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate the effort he’s making, I do. It’s very sweet. Thankfully, he only plays one song before walking away. “Are you having a nice time?” he asks.

“I am.”

“Good.”

“Are you ready to order now, Sir?” the waiter asks reappearing at our table.

“Yes, thanks,” Mark replies. As the waiter rattles off the chef’s suggestions, I tune him out. I already know Mark’s going to order for me. He always does. His father orders for his mother as well. I guess he thinks that’s the way it’s done.

Maybe in the sixteenth century.

While we wait for the food to arrive, we talk about work. Our conversations seem to always divert in that direction. I guess when you and your partner do the same thing for a living that happens. I must admit though, I think it’s the only thing we really have in common. That thought saddens me for some reason.

My mind drifts to Meg. God I miss her. It’s times like this I could use her shoulder. Her advice is what I crave. She’s the only one I could talk to about this situation. She knows me better than anyone.

She’s living on the other side of the world with her husband, Drew. He’s in IT. That’s how they met. She hated school, so instead of going to college like me, she headed straight into the workforce when she finished her senior year in high school.

She instantly fell head-over-heels in love, which was surprising for her. I guess he was the one. It was a whirlwind romance. They were married within a year. Then he was offered a position looking after the company’s overseas branches. It was a huge opportunity for him. Naturally Meg followed her husband.

There’s a huge gap in my life without her in it. We talk on the phone when we can, but it’s not the same as having her living nearby when I need her. Like now. She adores her husband, but hates being shuffled around from one place to the next. As soon as she gets settled, they up and move again. I can hear the sadness in her voice every time we talk on the phone. She has so many of her own dramas going on at the moment, I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to burden her down with mine.

Once we’ve eaten, Mark asks me if I’d like to dance. I almost say no, but when I see the look of expectation in his eyes, I don’t. He’s gone to a lot of effort tonight. The least I can do is go along with it.

He holds me in his arms as we move to a slow song. “Do you know how much I love you?” he whispers in my ear when the song comes to an end. Guilt consumes me again. I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. I tighten my grip around his waist, holding him against me, savouring the feeling of being held by the man who loves me.

When the music stops, Mark releases me. Turning to walk back towards our table, I’m stopped when he reaches for my arm, holding me in place. Facing him again, my heart drops into the pit of my stomach when I realise what he’s about to do. He takes a step backwards, and to my horror, gets down on one knee.

Holy fucking crap! I’m not ready for this.

“No, no, no,” I blurt out in a panic as I try and pull him back to his feet. Noooo. Please don’t ask me to marry you in front of all these people, I want to scream, but before I get a chance, he pulls the ring out of his pocket and holds it out towards me.

“Indiana Montgomery, I love you. Please say you’ll spend the rest of your life with me.” At first I stand there in stunned silence. I feel dreadful. My eyes dart around the restaurant. Everybody has stopped what they’re doing and are now watching this horrible scene unfold. I find myself wishing a big black hole would open up beneath me and swallow me whole.

Even before Carter came back on the scene, I knew I wasn’t ready for this kind of commitment. I’m only twenty-two. There’s so much I want to experience before I even think of settling down. Like traveling the world for one. How can I say no to him in front of all these people? I can’t lie and say yes either. That would be so much worse.

My eyes meet his again as he waits for my answer. I see hope, then desperation cross his face. I feel tears burn my eyes. The pleading look in his eyes makes my heart hurt, but I still can’t bring myself to answer him. Then his expression turns to anger. I continue to stand there in stunned silence.