Page 151 of The Wedding Menu

“Yeah, fuck it.”

He brings my hand to his lips. He kisses my knuckles, then the top of my hand, and smiles. “Amelie, I should have proposed to you at Barbara’s wedding.” He shakes his head. “I lost so much time with all my nonsense about marriage. My mom was right.”

A smile curves my lips. “Well, we’d just met back then, and I was engaged to someone else. Iprobablywould have said no.”

“Then I should have proposed to you when you texted me for the first time. Or when you called me by mistake. Or when we checked out the band at the Quinns’ wedding. Or at that bridal shop.” He exhales deeply. “I should have proposed to you every time I talked to you until you said yes.”

“Yeah,” I agree, brushing a lock of his hair off his forehead. “It’s definitely in line with your style.”

Huffing out a laugh, he looks down at the floor. “I’m not sure how—Do I get down on one knee? Or is that—”

“No, you’re fine.”

“So do I just… ask?”

“I think you should have planned this before.”

He nods, looking left and right. “You’re probably right. Wait.” He reaches over and grabs some daisies out of one of the vases. He shakes them up and down, getting rid of most of the water dripping from the stems, then offers them to me. “I’ve been trying to give you flowers for a while.”

“You gave me a flower the night we met,” I say as I accept them from him.

“I want to give you flowers every day.”

Ignoring the drops falling on my shoes, I bring them to my nose, inhaling the scent of spring. It makes my heart flutter, goose bumps taking over most of my skin as a single tear rolls down his cheek. This moment—all the moments that will come after this one—they make it all worth it. William Roberts, my restaurant, my father, Martha, Frank… I’d do it all over again. I’d take any path, no matter how painful, as long as it brought me here. To Ian.

For a brief but thoughtful moment, Ian looks around the room, taking in all the daisies, then turns to me, a dazzling smile lightingup his face. “Amelie, will you come to my wedding?” Before I can tell him I’m pretty sure that’s not how he’s supposed to ask, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Because I’m definitely going to need a bride.”

My hand covers my mouth, joy exploding out of me like tiny fireworks.

Thatis the cheesiest pickup line in the world.

Fifty Percent Mine

— TODAY—

I clutch my chest, my heart is beating so fast: it feels like there’s a whole engine working in there. “Ian, this is lovely. Really, it’s just… I love it. And I love you for it.”

Lowering the hand holding the ring, he takes a step back. “Holy fuck. There’s a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”

After a second of hesitation, I nod. “Just a tiny one.”

“Jesus,” he groans. “I can’t catch a break with these engagements, can I?”

“No, no. It’s just… what’s the rush?” I study his eyes. “Why propose today, after…” His smile wavers, so I know he’s thinking of yesterday too. “And at Martha’s wedding?”

With a short-lived chuckle, he shakes his head. “This isn’t Martha’s wedding.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

“Didn’t you notice what I’m wearing?”

Of course I did. It’s weirdly similar to the outfit I planned for Frank to wear at our wedding—which then turned into the outfit the groom is supposed to be wearing today. “You look insanely great.”

He looks down and considers what I’m wearing. “Thanks. You should change.”

“Ouch.”

He’s happy and unbothered as he points to the right, where, hanging from the handle of a large white wardrobe, there’s a wedding dress.