Love and Chocolate

About five minutes before he was due to arrive, I sliced the cake. My piece would be an ordinary sweet treat—something to go with my evening cup of decaf. But his piece of cake… his piece—or, rather, his reaction to it—would determine the course of the rest of my life.

I set the cake on the table, whipped off my apron, and stepped into my bedroom to put a few finishing touches on my appearance. Hair—fabulous. Lipstick—the perfect shade of red. My little black dress—ideal for the occasion.

I glanced at the clock. He would arrive any second now.

There. The doorbell rang throughout my apartment, and I danced to the door on shaking legs. This is going to work, I told myself. Everything will be fine.

“Hi.” I admitted him into my apartment and greeted him with a hug and a featherlight kiss on the lips. From the way his arms wrapped around me, I knew I was torturing him by not giving him more. But that would be over soon. I hoped. I hoped it would be over soon. Then again, maybe this whole endeavor would blow up in my face. “How was work?” I asked as I stepped back.

“It was fine. One of my ER patients had a crayon stuck up his nose. It was…” He trailed off and tilted his head as he observed me. “I forgot something, didn’t I? I thought we were staying in tonight. Were our reservations for the Pink Door tonight? I’m so sorry.”

“No. You didn’t forget. That’s next week. I felt like getting dressed up. After all, chocolate cake is a special occasion, isn’t it?” I gestured at the table, where a few elegant candles burned between our respective slices of cake. “I used my auntie’s recipe. I don’t know if it will taste as good as hers, but I thought it was worth a try.”

“No dinner? As a medical professional, you know I can’t condone this.” He grinned as he settled in front of his slice. “But as a grateful boyfriend, I wholeheartedly approve. It looks beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I took my place at the table and picked up my fork. “Just do me a favor and take small bites.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Er… there was an incident when I was baking. You know, clumsy me. I think I got all the eggshells out, but you can never be too careful. I don’t want you to hurt your teeth.”

“Oh. All right.” I couldn’t tell if he bought my little white lie. He would find out the truth soon enough. His fork penetrated the cake, and he brought the first bite to his lips. “Mmm. That’s delicious. So tell me about your day. How was work?”

“It was fine. Normal.”

He nodded. “Good. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting strange.”

“Fine. I’m fine.” I couldn’t taste my cake because I was so nervous, but other than that, yeah, I was fine.

“Okay…” He continued eating his cake. “You’re a beautiful woman. Have I told you that lately?”

I glowed. “Not since our first date.”

He laughed. “So not since last week?”

“I mark it on my calendar every time you tell me I’m beautiful.”

“Seriously?”

“I think you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that question.”

“Right. You’re not a psychopath who is going to poison me with chocolate cake if I forget to tell you how amazing you are.” He took another bite of cake. “Although, I have to say, I did think you were pretty weird for a while. If we hadn’t gotten stuck in the elevator together, I would probably still think you were weird.”

I made a show of being offended. “Why, sir, I am weird. Don’t disrespect my weirdness just because you’re getting used to it.”

He chuckled. “My apologies, my lady. You are among the weirdest and most wonderful beings I have had the pleasure to meet.”

“Thanks. You’re weird, too.” I beamed.

“Thank you.” He dug his fork into the cake again, and he frowned. My heart landed in my throat. There it was. It was happening. It was happening! “That doesn’t feel like an eggshell,” he said as he used his fork to pick out a circular object—a tungsten band with a row of diamonds down its middle. He brushed off the bits of cake that clung to it and examined it with raised eyebrows, his gaze going between me and it.

I stood, walked to his side of the table, and lowered myself to my knees. “Gregory Alexander Pintuck, will you marry me?”

“I… what?”

I had prepared for this. My words came out like a hailstorm of bullets—tiny bullets full of affection. “I know this is only our second official date, but let me explain. We’ve known each other for years, and we’ve been friends for a long time. And I’ve been terrified to tell you this, but I don’t want to… do certain… things without being married. My parents would disown me. They’re really conservative. So I thought… why not? I love you. I’ve loved you for ages. I was just too shy to say it. So this is how I’m saying it.”

I couldn’t read his face. He was about to say no. He would crush my heart and grind it into nothing. Then he would tell everyone in the hospital where we worked that I was a lunatic. I would have to quit my job, change my name, and move to Siberia to find a place where no one had heard of the psycho girl who proposed on the second date. No, maybe not Siberia. Too cold. The Australian outback might work. Yeah, sounded like a good plan.

I held my breath while I waited for my universe to collapse in on itself.

His face changed. The tiniest smile adorned his lips before he leaned down and kissed me—a chocolatey kiss that filled me with hope and drowned me in longing.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get married.”

I squealed in delight. Chocolate cake had changed my life.