Before You Propose...

Veronica paced the length of her living room, her long strides eating up the distance between the walls of her small New York City apartment, creating the need for her to pivot after only a few steps. She glanced at her watch. 6:55. Henry said he’d pick her up at 7. He was never late.

Veronica was sure Henry was going to propose. There’d been something different in his voice when he called and asked if he could see her tonight. Called. Not texted. He had a hankering for the spaghetti and meatballs and the Chianti at their favorite Italian hole-in-the-wall, he’d said. He would love her company. Veronica had known before he even finished speaking. She’d felt ill but instead of making an excuse, she’d agreed to dinner anyway.

Crap. Henry was going to propose. Next month would be their two-year anniversary. Just last month, they’d talked about moving in together. To stall, she’d told him she wasn’t sure she could take that step without some assurance about their future. It had been a lie. Albeit a necessary one. But she couldn’t move in with him. She simply hadn’t thought it would push him to propose. Not yet anyway. She thought she had more time.

Henry was an accountant. Handsome in that cute, nerdy way. Dark hair, blue eyes. Glasses. He always looked adorably ruffled. They’d met at a speed dating event of all things. Veronica had just moved to New York City. She’d wanted to really immerse herself in this world. What better way to do that than meeting other people and dating? She’d been instantly smitten. She asked him out for coffee immediately following the event. At first, he thought she was playing a joke on him. Later telling her he was sure she was way out of his league. I mean, she looked like a goddess. Veronica had laughed that off, assuring him she was no different than him (another lie), but then the rest, as they say, is history.

Except she had never planned to fall in love with him. She’d heard of it happening, of course, but she never thought it would happen to her. She’d just wanted to spend time with someone who was interesting and made her laugh.

Crap. Crap. Crap. He was really going to propose. Veronica’s hands were damp. She rubbed them on her jeans. What a predicament. The doorbell was going to ring any minute. Oh, why hadn’t she listened to her mother. Her mother had told her getting involved with him was a mistake. This was not her world after all. She was only on a “day pass,” her mother said. Eventually, she would have to come home and face her responsibilities. She could not keep him. It wasn’t allowed. Well, there was one way she could keep him. Veronica glanced sideways towards the chocolate cake on her kitchen counter. She just wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Or if she should tell him before or after.

The doorbell chimed and Veronica jumped. “Hell’s bells,” she muttered.

Walking the two steps to her door, she quickly checked her appearance in the mirror on the wall. Her long blonde hair fell effortlessly down her back. Her lavender eyes were perfectly highlighted. She was a little flushed but there wasn’t much she could do about that now. Wetting her lips, she smiled and opened the door.

Henry was smiling at her, a bouquet of wildflowers (her favorite) in his hand. He had on his favorite corduroy suit jacket. Leaning over, he kissed her on the lips. “Hi gorgeous.”

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. “Hi yourself,” she said, her voice a little too breathless, returning the kiss. “Those are beautiful. You shouldn’t have.” She took the flowers from him and turned to walk to the kitchen. “Come in. I want to put these in water before they wilt.”

“Great.”

Veronica heard him step inside and close the door behind himself.

“What time is our reservation?” she called from the kitchen.

“We have a bit of time yet. Not until 8.”

“There’s something I’ve been needing to tell you…before we go to dinner,” she said. She was still in the kitchen so he couldn’t see her face.

“That sounds ominous,” Henry said, his voice laced with concern.

“Hopefully not.” Veronica laughed. She laughed when she was nervous. Henry knew this.

“V, what’s going on?” He entered the kitchen, his eyes searching her face.

She shifted from foot to foot but made herself meet his eyes. “There’s just some, uh, stuff about me and my family that I think it’s time you knew.”

Veronica watched his hand unconsciously rub the front of his blazer. There was an inside pocket in that same spot on the other side. “Why don’t we sit down.”

It was then he spotted the chocolate cake. “Wait, you baked?”

“I did. Would you like a piece?” Coward, her conscience, whispered.

Eyeing the cake, he shook his head. “I’ll wait.”

“Shall we sit?” She motioned towards her red velvet sofa.

“Okay, sure,” he said. Crossing the room, he sat. His back ramrod straight.

Veronica stood in front of him.

“Are you going to sit,” he asked.

“No,” she said, wringing her hands. “I think I’ll stand.”

“V, you’re really starting to make me nervous.”

“Just rip off the band-aid,” she whispered.

“Excuse me,” he said.

Veronica glanced at the cake again. “Remember how I told you my father was a sleep therapist and that my mom is a courier of sorts.” He nodded. “Well, that’s not exactly true.”

His expression changed from worried to concern. “Lots of people tell little lies about their family. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Great, I’m glad you feel that way because I did lie. My father is actually the god of dreams, Morpheus, and my mother is Iris, a messenger to the gods, which makes me a minor goddess.” She blew out a long breath. “There, I said it. Now you know.”

Henry sat silent for several seconds. Veronica waited expectantly. “Is this a joke? Where’s the camera?”

Veronica threw her hands in the air. “It’s a not a joke. There is no camera. Henry, I’m telling you the truth.”

“This has to be a joke, or you fell and bumped your head.” He took off his glassed and pressed his thumb and forefinger together at the top of his nose. Before replacing his glasses, he ran a hand through his hair. “Gods and goddesses do not exist.”

“They do. I promise they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Henry, I knew you planned to propose tonight, and I couldn’t let you go through with it without knowing the truth about me.”

He rubbed that spot on his jacket again.

“Before you say anything else, I’ll make you a deal. If you eat a piece of that chocolate cake, I can prove it to you.”

“How exactly?”

“Because I went to Olympus today and got some ambrosia and mixed it into that chocolate cake. If you eat a piece, you’ll be temporarily immortal, and I can take you to Olympus.”

“Fine, okay, why not,” he said, his tone exasperated.

Veronica quickly cut a piece of the cake and watched him eat each bite. She was going to pay dearly for this. It was forbidden to give ambrosia to humans, but she saw no other way. She wanted to be with Henry for as long as he would have her and there was no way that could happen if he didn’t know the truth. Eventually, he would begin to age, and she would not. At that point, she’d be forced to leave him or reveal the truth. He might never forgive her for such a deceit.

“All finished.” He placed the plate beside him on the couch. “What now? I don’t feel any different.”

Veronica took a deep breath. “Take my hand.” Her hand reached for his, he took it. It felt solid in her own hand. “Close your eyes. It will be easier, I promise. “

“Ready.”

A few seconds later, she said, “Okay, open them.”

Veronica watched Henry closely when he opened his eyes. He clearly expected to still be in her apartment. There was confusion, shock, then wonder. He turned in a circle.

“How…how is this possible?” he whispered. “What was in that cake?”

“Ambrosia,” Veronica answered.

“Where are we?”

Veronica looked around the garden of her childhood home. A place she had spent many hours as a child, running, playing hide and seek with her siblings, dreaming about her future, waiting to grow up. Unlike in the human world, this garden was always in bloom. She inhaled deeply. The smell of jasmine, roses and honeysuckle filled her nostrils.

“This is my home,” she said. “This is where I grew up.”

“Are those columns made of real gold?”

“I assume so. Take my hand again Close your eyes.”

He did as she asked.

“Open them,” she said. “This is my bed chamber.”

Henry silently wandered over to the window. She watched as he reached through the opening and ran this hand through a cloud. He leaned over and looked down. She knew he could see the mountain range beneath them extending as far as the eye could see. Finally, he turned to face her.

“So,” he swallowed, “so, you’re actually a goddess.”

She nodded.

“But I don’t understand. Why New York City? Why…me?”

“I wanted time to figure out what I wanted away from all of this. And why you?” she smiled. “How could I not fall in love with you?”

“Will you age? And our children…” he swallowed again.

“Yes, but not for a long time. As for our children, they’d be demi-gods or goddesses.”

“I need to sit down and some water, definitely some water.” He looked around and reached for the glass by her bed.

“No, not that!” she exclaimed.

He jerked his hand back as if he’d been burned.

“Let’s go back to my place…in the city.”

He nodded. “Yes, good idea.” Without her having to ask, he grabbed her hand and closed his eyes.

“Okay, you can open them.”

They were back in her apartment, sitting on her couch. The ambient sounds of New York City filtering in through her windows. She pushed to her feet and grabbed a cup of water for him from the kitchen. As he drank it down, she looked at the clock. It was almost 7:30. If they didn’t leave now, they’d be late for their reservation.

“Are you ready to head to dinner?” she asked hopefully.

“Dinner?” His expression was one of alarm as he looked at the clock on the wall. His hand rubbed that same spot on his jacket, his expression quickly turning sad. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

Veronica forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Henry, nothing needs to change. I’m still me. I love you.”

“V,” he said, taking her hands in his, “you’re everything I didn’t even know I wanted. When I rang your doorbell tonight, I could see our future so clearly, I could have touched it like…,” he took a deep breath, “like that cloud outside your bed chamber window on Mount Olympus.”

“But...,” she said, trying to keep the tears from falling.

“But now, now I don’t know. I love you. I do. But I’m just a simple guy with simple desires and needs. Being married to a goddess, possibly having half-god children, not being able to grow old together. I need some time.”

She swallowed, forcing another smile. “Of course, I understand,” she said because what else could she say.

He kissed her on the cheek then rose to leave. She didn’t get up. She couldn’t watch him walk out of her apartment and, most likely, out of her life. After she heard the door close, she opened her hand and looked down at the ring. “Good-bye, Henry.” Finally, she let herself cry.