***
By the time I was seventeen, I had started imagining a future with Ben.
Never out loud.
Just quiet daydreams of him, me, and Rosie, our lives happily intertwined, while I did my homework or brushed my hair before bed.
I had started imagining a future with Ben.
I thought he saw it too.
The way he lingered on our porch.
The way he laughed at things Rosie said that only I would find funny.
***
Then one Sunday, when I was twenty-two, Ben knocked on the door.
He held a small velvet box in his palm.
My heart lifted so fast I felt dizzy.
He held a small velvet box in his palm.
“Can I talk to Rosie?” he asked me.
I blinked. “Rosie?”
“Yeah. Is she in the garden?”
I stepped aside without answering.
I watched from the kitchen window as he kneeled in front of my sister among the tomato vines.
